Written in Reverse: Creating Cross-Currents
by LuckyLikesLemons
Summary: This is your average time travel fix-it AU, except for the part where Nico is, well, Nico, and derails the whole timeline by accident. With old enemies, new allies and everything in between, it would take no less than a miracle to keep things from flying off the rails. Camp life was just as Nico remembered it. But if all things go well, it won't be. At least, not for long. Enjoy!
1. Swords and Dummies

**Disclaimer:**

The PJO universe doesn't belong to me. The plot was loosely inspired by _IdeasCornicopia'_ s story, _Nico di Angelo and the Bane of the Gods_ (though it has completely deviated by now). The story, the way it's written, most of the incidents and some other aspects are the ones that are my own. There may be a few OCs sprinkled in later, but who knows?

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey guys! This is AK again, here with the latest chapter of the new arc of WIR! Hope you like it!

 **Warning** : Minor (very minor) panic attack. 'Weakness' and 'hopelessness' are mentioned, nothing too graphic.

* * *

 **Book One**

 **Third Arc: Creating Cross-Currents**

 **Chapter 10: Swords and Dummies**

* * *

 _Thwump._

The sound of a sword partially embedded into armor.

 _Shlink._

The sound of metal grating upon metal.

 _Slash._

The sound of the opponent's head as it is thrown off their shoulders.

 _Thump_.

The sound of a head landing on the floor to rest with several others.

Silence, disturbed only with the sound of harsh panting.

Nico snarled. He stabbed his celestial bronze practice sword into his opponent's torso.

Once.

Twice.

And once more for good measure.

Each time he pulled his sword out, a bunch of his opponent's innards flew out.

Soon, all that was left of the poor training dummy was a dented piece of metal which once bore a meek resemblance to armor, and a loose cloth bag resembling a deflated balloon, once stuffed to the brim with hay.

The few lone pieces of hay that stuck to the dummy only added to the pathetic nature of the picture.

To say Nico was frustrated would be the understatement of the year.

He threw his sword down forcefully.

His arms were burning like the pits of Hades but he paid them no heed.

He was used to worse, after all.

What bothered him was that he was _weak._

He carded his fingers through his hair.

Compared to what he had been before, he was, quite frankly, _pathetic._

But more than that, he was completely _vulnerable._

And if that didn't terrify him, he didn't know what terror was.

One of the greatest of his few comforts had been the confidence that he could fight.

It was like a safety blanket for any demigod- the confidence that he could protect himself when things went south.

But now that he didn't have it, he felt exposed, and the warning symptoms of a panic attack made itself known.

When he realized that he was in his childhood body, he knew that he would be out of shape.

He wasn't _that_ stupid.

But when he was faced with the Manticore, he hadn't fared half bad.

It had led him to overestimate himself.

And now, while training without the adrenaline rush, he saw the true, piteous state of his body.

The scrawny arms his opponents saw had none of the wiry muscle that allowed him to take advantage of their folly.

The skinny legs that were made to run, jump and kick started to burn at the ten minute mark.

The small stature he had used to his advantage time and again lacked the center of mass that allowed him to keep his balance.

The building blocks of his strength reduced to the clay it once was.

He had expected, to a certain extent, to be out of shape.

But he hadn't, not even once, thought that he would have to start from scratch.

He had hoped to retain _at least_ muscle memory.

Or technical ability.

Or… anything really.

But no.

A big, resounding, **no**.

 _How is it fair?!_

He felt like screaming into the chill morning air.

He flopped to the ground and held his hands in front of his face.

His palms were already bruised.

It had hardly been an hour.

The coarse cloth that was wrapped around the handle of the sword hadn't really helped.

He looked at his trembling hands and felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

He missed the smooth handle of his Stygian Iron Sword.

He missed the comfortable weight by his side.

He missed the sense of completion it gave.

He- wait.

 _What was that?_

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps.

A steady gait and solidness.

No metallic clang to warn of Empousa, no scratch of claws against solid earth to warn of Hell hounds, no slithering to warn of the more reptilian monstrosities.

They sounded like honest flesh and bones dampened by rubber or leather.

It suggested only that the unknown being was human.

It did not mean that it was an ally.

Or safe.

Or sane.

As the footsteps came closer, he could hear the soft squish of sneakers.

Probably a demigod then.

Usually, it would be reassuring.

But during this time, the time of the Second Titan War, the time where demigod turned on demigod- it was a cold comfort.

The door to the arena opened and he stuffed his trembling hands into his pockets.

 _Don't show weakness if you can help it,_ he reminded himself.

"What are you doing?" called out a voice.

He craned his neck to see a boy coming his way.

"Who are you?" asked Nico.

"I'm Malcolm Pace of the Athena cabin," he introduced himself, "And if I'm not wrong, you are Nico."

"How did you know?"

"Saw you come out of the Sun yesterday. Annabeth told me to keep an eye out for you. So yeah, what are you doing?"

"I was training," he mumbled gesturing behind him.

The son of Athena did a double take when his eyes fell onto the row of mutilated dummies.

"I'll say," he mumbled.

His eyes were fixated onto the poor inanimate objects.

He then shook his head once and said,

"But why're you on the floor?"

"I'm- uh. I'm taking a breather."

"I see…"

"Yep."

"Okay, then... Why don't you- um, do yourself a favor and take one of the benches?"

"Too exhausted," he said, flopping backwards onto the floor again.

Malcolm seemed to be debating whether or not to continue the conversation.

He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.

Finally.

Someone as socially awkward as he was.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, the child of Athena seemed to decide it wasn't worth it.

The older demigod made his way towards the weapon's shed.

Nico observed him quietly.

While the fair headed boy seemed like the poster boy for discipline, there was a latent aura about him.

An aura that reminded him of a certain friend of his who was also blond and bespectacled.

A friend who had an affinity for lightning.

And somehow, this Malcolm Pace had a different feel than his sister.

If Annabeth could be compared to lightning, as unstoppable as a force of nature and nearly as precise, then Malcolm could be compared to the eye of a storm, a hair's breath away from raging, a ticking time bomb.

But as they say, every cloud has a silver lining.

With the other's sudden appearance, Nico's head cleared up a bit.

He used a few moments collect himself, focusing on the firm resistance against his back.

After a few minutes, he got to his feet and made a beeline to the next dummy in the row.

It seems like that mini-meltdown had _some_ effect.

Nico felt a bit better.

And now, he could analyze the situation in a calm and cool manner.

He brought to mind all he had noted from this practice session of his.

He needed to train to re-build his endurance.

His stamina would build with time.

It helped that he knew the theory, even though his muscles were not familiar with the same.

And he had a long way to go if muscle memory should be gained, or as he should say, re-gained.

Once he started fighting in real combat, his instincts and reflexes will hone themselves.

What he _really_ needed was _practice_.

While he wasn't aiming for perfection, he required enough skill to face the world outside Camp's borders.

And he had no intention of staying in Camp any longer than strictly necessary.

There were many reasons for his decision.

For one, there was the ghost of Minos.

Nico wasn't the Ghost King until he wrest the title away from it.

What more, he had to do it himself.

(He wasn't planning on letting that phony royal keep the title for its meager self.)

Secondly, he needed to gain experience.

Ironic as it was, he was safer with a more dangerous opponent.

When it came to such, he had the advantage- he hadn't survived for so long without taking down monsters much bigger and badder that himself.

But in the case of a supposedly 'weaker' opponent, he tends to underestimate it.

If he were to face a small range monster in the state he was in, he would probably be chopped to bits.

After he was recognized by his father as the son of Hades, _if_ he was recognized by his father as the son of Hades, he would simply have do the same with his powers.

He would have to practice it somewhere out of sight.

But he had been there before, done it before, and got a black t-shirt for his trouble.

He knew which places he could use, and for how long.

And what do you know.

That was it.

Regaining his skills should be as easy as breathing.

It would be utterly and completely simple.

He would master the sword.

After that he would progress to other weaponry.

He really, _really_ missed his own Stygian iron sword.

He would need it as soon as possible.

Often, he would find his hand drifting to his left hip where a phantom weight had settled, to lay his hand on the smooth handle, only to pull away with empty hands and tightness in his chest.

But he digressed.

There were other issues to be dealt with.

People might start getting suspicious when he would tire easily for no apparent reason.

The strangers, he could ignore.

Those he knew him would be the main problem.

Percy, although oblivious as always, was prone to sudden strokes of fortune (or misfortune, depending on how one looks at it).

Nico should be weary of him.

Best case scenario, with the right excuses, he would be able to convince him to help him train.

Worst case scenario, Percy would be a part of the pitch-forked crowd.

Big deal.

(Actually, it _was_ a big deal, a _very_ big deal, but that was a personal thing and had no relevance the matter at hand.)

 _Annabeth_ would be a bigger problem.

Best case scenario, she'd ignore him.

Worst case scenario, she would get _curious_.

Anyone with half a brain (which most people seemed to lack) would get suspicious if a young boy suddenly started training fanatically for no apparent reason.

And if he did not have a logical reason, it would be 'la fin' for him.

But if he played his cards right, maybe he could make it 'le fin du fin'.

He really would have to come up with some kind of a sufficient excuse.

And then there was his sister...

Argh!

He loved his sister.

He did.

But he couldn't bear to look at her now.

She now took her place as a Hunter of Artemis.

There wasn't much he could do.

If possible, she should be kept alive.

But while the Huntresses were in camp, most of his time would be spent meddling with this timeline.

When Bianca leaves for her Quest, he could only start his training and hope that whatever he did would be sufficient.

But oh!

If anyone asked about his new training regime, he could blame it on frustration at his sister leaving him.

It was plausible.

It would feel like he was cutting his heart out, but it wouldn't be forever.

This peacefulness held only until he was claimed.

He wasn't foolish enough to believe that he'd be safe.

It had taken a war and a half for his comrades to accept him.

Best bet, he had a week before he had to pack his bags and hightail it out of here.

One way or another.

Bianca or no Bianca.

This brought him back to why he had a crisis:

He still hadn't fully forgiven his sister for leaving him.

His fatal flaw was letting go of grudges after all.

Or letting go of things in general.

But one thought in particular plagued his mind.

He wouldn't have done it if he was in her place.

He _hadn't_ done it.

He had stayed with the alliance camp rather than acting as a freelancer when Hazel had needed him.

He had stayed where almost all the people around him had hated him, so that his younger sister wasn't hated in his place.

Sure, it had gotten better with time.

He earned his fellow demigods' trust and respect as time went on.

For Hades' sake, he turned out to be one of the most influential pieces of the Alliance.

A legend, even.

But he would never ever forget the days when he had been treated like an outsider.

It had been one of the major phases of his life which molded him to be what he was that day- but he would not wish it on anyone else.

Least of all his elder sister.

And that was what awaited her if she had stayed.

A life of isolation and times of desperation and having to prove yourself time and time again...

But then again, a tough life was better than no life.

For the first time in this timeline, Nico had a creeping suspicion that his sister was going to die.

He felt bitter at the thought of his sister in the Hunt.

But it was her calling.

And she had to answer.

Even if it meant leaving him behind.

Even if it meant that she could die.

…It still hurt a lot though.

* * *

Malcolm observed CHB's newest addition from the doorway of the weapons' shed.

While it wasn't particularly unusual, it was a bit strange to have such a young child at Camp.

And he had quite a few opinons about him.

After all, one would give quite the impression if they enter Camp on Apollo's Sun chariot, or rather the 'Sun-bus', as Annabeth had taken to calling it.

With heavy bandages around their head.

Especially with the Hunters of Artemis as their co-passengers.

And the rumours.

One simply could not ignore the rumours.

One of them claimed that he had ' _connections_ ' in the Hunters' ranks.

Another one claimed that he had been healed by the Sun god Apollo himself.

Yet another claimed that he had killed a Manticore, all by himself.

It just goes to show that people will believe in just about anything you tell them.

He observed the kid with a small furrow between his eyebrows.

The technique was nowhere near flawless, and he could barely hold the sword up for more than one stroke.

He seemed to be in intense thought, and whatever he was thinking of seemed to be troubling him.

Seeing that it wasn't his place to butt in, Malcolm decided to do what he came to do.

He hefted a sword onto his shoulder and walked out of and away from the weapons shed.

He then went to the nearest dummy and started to slash holes in it.

He analyzed the situation while keeping a discreet eye on the pre-teen.

The boy spared a glance at him before stabbing the dummy over and over again.

Typical rookie.

Malcolm cringed.

Partially because of the utterly poor technique and mostly because he would _not_ want to be in the dummy's shoes.

If he were, he would be dying slowly and in an excruciatingly painful manner-

But his death would be certain.

The child of Athena momentarily wondered if the boy knew about that particular fact before discarding the thought as utterly ridiculous.

Another surreptitious glance at the boy had him stifling a laugh.

It was not nearly as ridiculous as the sight of the boy trying to extract his sword which was jammed into a dummy.

Malcolm walked up to the dummy with long strides.

He grasped the sword with one hand and tugged it out of the dummy in a single fluid motion.

The boy immediately froze and looked at him with suspicion.

It somehow reminded him of his own younger self.

Malcolm rolled his eyes at Nico and shoved the sword handle back into the other's hands.

He stood a few paces away from the twelve year old and held his hand up.

"You must hold the hilt like _this,_ " he explained, demonstrating the grip.

The boy peered at his hand before trying it out.

He got it right the third time.

"A good grip is a part of the basic foundations of a good swordsman. If you don't have a good grip, you lose your sword. Most people underestimate the importance of a proper grip. What is the point if you know all the greatest sword techniques known to man if you have no sword? To maintain a good grip is also necessary because your wrist will begin to tire quickly without a proper grip. It will decrease your agility and technique…"

And that is how Malcolm found himself giving the newbie of CHB an impromptu training session at six thirty AM.

* * *

The day started relatively calmly- that is, relative to the last time.

There was a nagging worry for Lady Artemis in the back of his mind.

He needed to find a way to ensure the Goddess's safety.

She had been one of his most trusted allies in the war.

And she was also one of the Olympian Gods.

If she faded it would throw off the structural balance of Olympus.

After all, Hestia gave up her Olympian throne for Dionysus for a reason.

But even then, there had been complications.

If he recalled correctly, the shift of power had caused gender inequality in society, because the God to Goddess ratio in Olympus had tuned from 1:1 to 7:5.

Additionally, there had been a spike in the number of alcohol consumers and an overall depression in those who considered 'home' to be more important than 'drink'.

Another shift would most probably cause some other socio-psychological problem on earth, which they, quite frankly, would not be able to cope with.

At least, not at that point of time.

And he wasn't sure that he could just let go and trust that things would fix themselves, like it did in the other timeline.

After all, he _was_ planning to make some pretty big changes.

He had to control them somehow.

Like how cadmium rods in nuclear reactors contain the nuclear reaction, preventing an all-out explosion- by absorbing the free, active electrons and letting only a limited number pass through.

However, Nico had no idea how he could possibly accomplish this task.

Nor did he have time to think about it with all the activities the Stoll brothers pushed him into.

After the two pranksters had heard about what happened from Thalia, they had made it their personal duty to give him the most memorable day in his life to make up for the ghastly first day of Camp he had had.

While the timing was inopportune, Nico had to admit that he appreciated the sentiment.

And that he hadn't laughed that hard in _ages_.

After the tour, they took him to the training area.

He went to the archery practice area and listened to the instructor.

Unlike the last time, he did have the basic knowledge of how to shoot an arrow.

Like the last time, he had not the strength.

He missed the target by a foot, but the Ares child who was the instructor said that he could be really good if he put in a bit of practice.

He caught sight of Grover as he retrieved his arrows.

The satyr was behind a bush, spying on a few Hunters talking to (or rather fighting with) a few Aphrodite kids.

Bianca was one of them, though she seemed to be trying to calm them down rather than agitate them further.

"What do you _mean_ love is useless you-"

"Quiet, Carlen. If these cabin burning menaces do not know the joy of-"

"Oh, _please_. Love is _so_ overrated-"

"Oh that's _it._ "

"Carlen, no!"

"Oh yeah, what's the little princess- Arugh!"

One of the Aphrodite members, presumably the aforementioned Carlen, screeched like a harpy and threw herself at the Hunters. It quickly evolved into quite the cat-fight.

The Hunters ended up winning, though not without some serious battle scars.

Just then, Nico caught sight of Silena was walking towards them from the stables looking livid.

"Well, I'll say," said Silena, drawing herself up to her full height.

"I know we have our differences, but today? Today, you have crossed the line. This. Means. _War_."

Well, this should be interesting.

* * *

 **Preview:**

"Okay, so now that we're all here, let's talk about today's Capture the flag,"

... _'And now_ ,' thought Nico with a grin, ' _lazy evening, here I come!'_

...Seems like he hadn't seen crocodile tears ever before.

..."I _want_ to come too."

..."No, we can't," Nico found himself saying.

..."A twelve-year-old kid just _what_?" he cut in.

...Bianca.

...So _that's_ where the other guard had run off to.

...Bianca looked up rather bashfully and nodded.

...No. _Bianca._

It's going to be a high stakes battle next time, so tune in for chapter eleven, coming soon!

* * *

 **Reply to anon reviews:**

 **eternaloblivion** : Welcome to the story! I'm happy that you're enjoying it thus far. I agree entirely with your sentiments: Nico's a BAMF and his achievements could be brought out better. And time travel fics are one of my soft spots. Kronos _has_ developed a sense of respect for Nico, it just isn't obvious/I'm glad you liked the Will of Janus. I hope that Nico's and Bianca's relationship is a bit clearer with this chapter. And don't worry, that Reynico bromance is right around the corner! Nico's a troll and in the best way! I've answered some of your queries in the world-building part of the 6th chapter of WIR:AI because they were really interesting, and the answers of the others will be revealed in the upcoming chapters. Look forward to it! (Also, the puppy eyes are unfair and you know it. I can't say no to puppy eyes... but my drafts... aah!) Thank you for reviewing!

 **KaneBro** : Hello there! It's too bad that the polls already closed, but don't worry. The arc will be published, just a bit later than the others. Think of it this way: you're saving the best for last! As for your guess: I plead the fifth to avoid spoilers.

 ** **Matt** :** I'm glad that you think that he is funny! And I've announced the poll results and the reason for the poll in chapter six of WIR:AI. Check it out, if you haven't.

 **MisterWhite:** Oh, if so, I'm glad. And yes, there is now, Solangelo ;). But I don't know if it will be endgame yet. The story has it's own mind you see. Kind of like the Labyrinth...

 **Guest:** _I_ _like the chapter's title. It sounds interesting to pronounce. And I see that Will has been introduced. Cool beanz_./ Thank you! I chose it because Aquila likes German, and I felt that 'first sight' didn't have the impact that I'd wanted.

 **Guest** : _Lovely chapter. Please update soon! (sorry for the short review)_ / Thank you! I've updated now, and surprisingly on schedule! And no review is too short, don't fret.

But seriously guys, you don't know how happy it makes me when you review. Every time it pops up, I smile like a loon for at _least_ a day. It doesn't matter how short you think it is, how nonsensical you think it is, or how curt you think it is- it makes me _ecstatic_.

A keyboard smash will make my day!

So don't hesitate to hit me up if you have anything to say.

(ah, that rhymed!)

* * *

 **A/N** : That's it for the day! How was it? Did you like my theory on the repercussions of the Olympian power-shift? Don't forget to review!


	2. All's Fair in Love and War

**A/N:** Hey guys! This is AK again, here with the latest chapter of the new arc of WIR! Hope you like it!

And, um, if you're wondering why I didn't update on Wednesday, it's because of something kind of traumatic. See, I have a younger sister. She's cute and nice and she likes hugs. She's a bit of a brat at times, but who isn't? But what happened was that... well.

She bit me.

On my forehead.

I'm still a bit shocked because she legit- yeah.

(I later came to know that it was my fault- I ate the cookies that she was saving for later. But _still_.)

 _Sigh_.

Well anyways, don't let it get you down.

This chapter deals with the all too famous Campers vs. Hunters showdown.

But with the addition of the strategic wizard Annabeth, will Camp stand a better chance?

* * *

 **Book One**

 **Third Arc: Creating Cross-Currents**

 **Chapter 11: All's Fair in Love and War...**

* * *

It was early afternoon, soon after lunch.

All the campers huddled around the camp fire, and Nico was no exception.

A hat, a scarf and a pair of gloves kept his extremities 'toasty-warm'.

They were a set, striped red and black, that he had borrowed from an older Camper.

Nico liked their soft, well worn feel.

It, coupled with the dancing hearth, brought to his mind the equally precious and fleeting memories of his mother's warmth.

He noticed a sweet looking girl by the fire.

Her hair was a mousy brown and her eyes a cozy red.

It was Hestia, and she was tending the flames.

He gave her a smile of gratitude.

The Goddess of Hearth and Home looked back at him fondly and tilted her head.

Following her direction, Nico turned to see Annabeth and Thalia calling for attention.

The other campers soon copied his action, and a hush fell over the fireside like snow on the lake.

Oh.

It was time.

* * *

"Okay, so now that we're all here, let's talk about today's Capture the flag," said Thalia, taking the lead.

"There are seventeen Hunters participating, so only seventeen of us will participate," continued Annabeth.

Varied noises of protest arose from the other campers.

The daughter of Zeus simply rolled her eyes and said,

"Yes, yes, we _all_ want to get even with the Hunters, but rules are rules."

"The Athena Cabin will sit this one out, along with any of the others who want to be a part of the strategizing," said Annabeth.

"Those who are a part of this group will nominate the participants, but can't nominate themselves. I shall act as Captain. The meeting will start in an hour, anyone who'd like to attend, be there. Does everyone understand?" asked Thalia.

A general murmur of consent was heard and the crowd dispersed.

Nico wondered if he should stay back and strategize.

But after weighing pros and cons, he decided he didn't need to.

It was more organized than the last time.

And no one would pick the rookie.

At least, not this time.

Annabeth was more than capable of choosing the right members.

 _'And now_ ,' thought Nico with a grin, ' _lazy evening, here I come!'_

But.

Nico had forgotten the fact that he had been picked the last time.

And that even though the timeline had been altered, it would take a greater effort to permanently change the weave of fate.

Nevertheless, we shall leave him to his delusions and observe the strategy meeting.

* * *

A strange sight could be seen that day in Camp Half Blood.

A weird, motley assortment of all the cabins came together to strategize.

As soon as everyone settled, Mariana, the Aphrodite representative, set her hands on the table and spoke up,

"Silena demands that the Aphrodite cabin should participate in this game. Directly."

Annabeth nodded once.

She understood that certain limits had been crossed.

The children of Love had a vendetta to carry out.

A _personal_ vendetta.

May Olympus help those who get in their way.

"We will see what we can do. But rest assured. There will be at least one participating member from Aphrodite."

Mariana nodded, appeased, and sat back.

"Why don't we start with the nominees? Who do we take from Ares?"

"I propose we take the top three fighters."

The names were quickly given and jotted down after much discussion.

Percy's and Charles's names soon followed.

Silena was chosen as the representative from Aphrodite.

It was partly because she was the Councilor for Aphrodite.

But mostly, it was because she had the most potent charm speak in Camp.

One other camper from Hephaestus was also added to the list, followed shortly by the Stoll brothers.

Drew too was added, followed by two Apollo campers and one from Demeter.

"The three remaining slots are left open for nomination," declared Thalia.

Two of the three were quickly filled with crowd favorites.

"I'd suggest we set someone as bait in the defense group," started Annabeth.

"If so, I recommend Nico di Angelo," said Malcolm suddenly.

He got some startled looks at the wildcard entry.

"The new kid?" asked an Apollo kid, sounding skeptical.

"Yeah," confirmed a Hermes kid, "Are you sure, though? He's a midget. He looks like he'd get crushed by the Hunters."

"I remember training him today," Put in one of the Ares children, "He was pretty good with the bow for his age. I say we could give him a shot."

"Yeah. And it's not like Malcolm to open his mouth fer nothin'. Kid must have somethin' good."

"But do you really think we should pit him against the Hunters first off?"

"Yes, I think he'll do well," said Annabeth with a gleam in her eye, "The boy has a good eye for detail. It could come in handy this evening. The Hunters specialize in stealth and the forest is their home turf. I think we should put him on defense."

"Does the nomination hold?" called Thalia.

A general sound of assent was made, though some grumbles were not unheard.

"So is it settled, Nico di Angelo for seventeenth spot."

"Now for the battle plan…"

* * *

The names of the participants were given out a few hours before the game.

Along with the names of the teams themselves.

Nico was surprised that he was chosen until Annabeth had taken him to the side.

She gave him a few pointers, told him not to overthink it and that he should just have fun.

So.

Fun it is.

Fun.

...

Nico observed the participating campers arranging themselves into their respective teams.

He supposed that the Aphrodite members, Silena and Drew, were put together because of their charm speaking capacity.

It sure wasn't because of their ability to work seamlessly with each other.

But since Annabeth was going with them, they would probably be alright.

They were on team Pigmy-puff, along with a few others.

Thalia was the head of team Jabberwocky.

She had Archers from the Apollo and the Ares Cabin with her.

They sat to one side now, fiddling with their bows.

They looked nervous, but that was understandable.

Team Quicksilver consisted of the fastest sprinters.

Nico recognized a few by their faces, but not by their names...

On Team Watch Tower, apart from him, were the Stolls, Percy and Charles.

Percy was about to protest about being in defense, but withdrew his case relatively quickly when Annabeth glared at him.

Nico spotted Percy as the latter sulked in a corner.

Nico had to admit that he felt a bit ridiculous.

A chest plate several sizes too big settled heavily on his shoulders.

His helmet was more of a hindrance than help, the plume tickling his nose uncomfortably.

Nevertheless, he walked up to the Son of Poseidon- he wanted to reenact a certain historic moment.

"Percy, this is awesome!" Nico exclaimed, hefting his heavy sword up, not without effort.

Percy looked at him and blinked.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but for a second, Nico was _sure_ that the corners of Percy's mouth tilted up just a _little_ bit.

He dutifully squashed the little skeletal butterflies in his stomach.

"Do we get to kill the other team?"

"Well… no,"

Okay, that was definitely a smile.

"But the Hunters are immortal right?"

"That's only if they don't fall in battle. Besides-"

What?

Why was he smiling?

Was he secretly a psychopath the whole time?

( **A/N** : now, wouldn't that be a twist...)

"It would be awesome if we just, like, resurrected as soon as we were killed, so we could keep fighting, and-"

"Nico, this is serious. Real swords. These can hurt."

Nico looked at him with disappointment flooding his features.

 _And three... Two... One…_

Percy's face crumpled.

 _Right on schedule,_ Nico smiled to himself.

Percy awkwardly patted Nico on the shoulder.

Thankfully, it was the Percy he knew.

And not a psychopath.

"Hey, it's cool. Just follow the team. Stay out of Zoë's way. We'll have a blast."

Chiron's hooves thundered on the pavilion floor.

He gave the rules of the game in a loud booming voice, commanding the attention of the entire camp.

" _Sweet_ ," Nico whispered on cue, "What kind of magic items? Do I get one?"

"Blue team, follow me!" called Thalia.

Nico allowed himself to fall behind in the mad scramble to get in position.

Percy tripped on one of the campers' shields in his haste to catch up to the rest of the team.

Nico thought it was adorable.

* * *

They set the flag high up in Zeus' fist.

After Thalia gave a quick recap of the plan, the first team - Silena's decoy group - went their way.

The other teams took off in quick succession.

Finally, Thalia went in with her campers.

And so, the guard group was alone.

After a while, Nico noticed that Percy was getting a bit restless.

Percy had started to climb up the pile of rocks.

Nico started to climb up after him.

"Uh, Nico. I'm not entirely sure that's safe…"

"Yeah, I guess not. But it's not like it has lava pouring down from it so I think I'll be fine."

Percy was silent for a while as he tried to ignore him, but ultimately failed.

"You- Can you please stop that," he said finally.

Nico gave him an icy look in reply.

Yeah, he was pathetic.

He would have cried if he hadn't discovered this early on.

As it was, he was getting seriously frustrated.

And Percy wasn't helping matters.

So.

Target number one.

Locked on.

"I want to come too," said Nico, dead serious.

"Yeah, I get that, but-"

"I _want_ to come too."

Percy looked surprised at his vehemence.

"Nico, no. It isn't safe-"

"I don't _care_ ," he full-out wailed, "I _want_ to come _too_."

Nico had this feeling that Percy had never been on the receiving end of a temper tantrum before.

Looks like he was right.

(It was a strange to see the doting brother of Estelle so inexperienced with children-

It was almost as strange as thinking of himself as a child.)

The son of Poseidon looked at the other three guards for help.

They wisely stayed out of it.

Finally, Percy managed to form a coherent plan and said,

"Look kid, I really don't think it's the best idea-"

"I _want_ to- *hic* I want to too!"

Percy balked at the sign of tears.

On the inside, Nico was laughing until tears came out.

Seems like the guy hadn't seen crocodile tears ever before.

He started to flounder about, trying to appease him and dissuade him at the same time.

Nico just looked at him and waited him to cave.

 _Three… two… one._

" _Fine_. You can come too… _if_ you can manage to climb up."

Percy actually looked smug.

As if something as simple as that could thwart him.

Nico smirked inwardly.

He turned to the Stoll brothers.

Targets two and three.

Acquired.

He widened his eyes in anticipation.

His lower lip trembled with the promise of tears should he not get what he wanted.

The two grinned at each other.

They grabbed each of his arms and hauled him up.

Soon, Nico stood next to Percy with a cheek splitting grin.

Percy was staring aghast at the two whom he'd assumed, without asking, were his allies.

But then his bafflement melted into seriousness as he surveyed the forest.

Nico followed his lead.

Nico caught a glimpse of team Quicksilver, the scouts.

They were being scouted by three of the Hunters themselves.

(He wondered how long it would take for them to notice...)

He caught sight of Team Pygmy-puff while they were running through a clearing.

Seven of the Hunters ran after them.

They were led deep into the woods and away from Thalia.

At least that plan seemed to be working.

He spotted another clump of Hunters heading to the right, bows pointing towards the trees.

Whoops, they must have caught sight of Thalia.

But they were only a third of the remaining Hunters.

Thalia's group outnumbered the Hunters.

They should be able to hold their own.

Nico was able to make out the Hunters flag and the people guarding it.

Nico slowly did the Math.

Unless he missed one or two of them…

There were four Hunters who were about to ambush them.

Meanwhile, Percy looked at Charles and asked,

"Can you guys hold the fort?"

Charles snorted, "Of course."

"No, we can't," Nico found himself saying.

Charles looked confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Something's wrong. Crunching the numbers, there are four Hunters that are AWOL," Nico frowned,

"Of course, I may be wrong and maybe I just missed them in the forest- but one of them is Zoë Nightshade, and I don't think I'd like to take the chance,

My guess is that they're going to ambush us. I'm a novice, so they'd overpower me in a heartbeat. And not even Beckendorf can take them two to one. To make things grimmer, they specialize in teamwork. Sorry Jackson but we need you here."

The other three campers at the foot of the rocks looked rather impressed at his little speech.

"Whoa, little Guy! When did you get so good at strategizing?"

"Mythomagic."

"Of course," Travis snorted.

"Of course!" Nico beamed.

"Well, good going."

"You've got a good head on your shoulders," said Beckendorf with a huge grin.

He gave Nico a hearty pat on the back as he slid to the ground.

Nico suddenly found his feet extremely interesting as he felt his blood rush to his ears.

"But the flag-" Percy protested weakly.

Nico felt his patience swiftly deteriorating.

"But I _just_ -"

"C'mon, Perce. Do you want to risk getting zapped by Thalia?"

"Or getting screamed at by Annabeth?"

"Or getting creamed by the Hunters?"

"But- c'mon guys! It's a golden opportunity!" Percy ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Don't you believe in yourselves? I'm sure that you can handle one extra Hunter, don't you think? If we pull this of... just think! We'll get one up on the Huntresses _and_ make Camp history! And you're just gonna let it slip away 'cause a twelve-year-old kid just-"

Nico saw red.

"A twelve-year-old kid just _what_?" he cut in.

An uneasy silence settled between a brow-knit Nico and a white-lipped Percy.

"…Nico, why don't you go instead?" said Connor.

"Yeah...You said it yourself- you're the only one whose absence won't make a difference in man-power," backed up Travis.

Nico looked at them in disbelief.

Beckendorf seemed to pick up on his anger.

"Guys, that was mean-"

But Nico wasn't listening.

He huffed.

"Fine. If you insist, I'll go."

He glared over his team mates.

"After all, I'm just a liability here."

"Aw, c'mon Neeks," said Connor with a wince.

Travis too realized his mistake and said, "We didn't mean it like _that_..."

But Nico wasn't looking at them.

He was looking at Percy.

Percy who looked upset, but said nothing.

And so, Nico found himself in the woods.

* * *

Nico was running as fast as his legs could carry him.

He felt horrible.

He cursed himself and his inability to say no to a certain son of Poseidon.

He leapt over the creek into the Hunter's territory.

Here, he slowed down a bit, ducking under the heavy foliage.

While his smaller self dismayed him regularly, here, it provided him with an edge.

He glanced through the shadows noiselessly, not unlike a shadow himself.

All the while, he kept an eye out for patrolling Hunters.

Nico spotted the Hunters' silver flag up ahead of him.

He slowed down and crept up to the ring of trees surrounding the small clearing which contained the Hunter's flag.

There was only one of the two guards whom he had spotted.

And as he came closer to the flag, he recognized who the guard was.

Bianca.

He could clearly tell that it was his sister, even though she had her back to him.

Luckily, she hadn't done the same.

He stayed where he was, crouching in the shadows of a large bush.

Hm, what to do, what to do...

His head snapped up to see Thalia came crashing into the clearing- slamming straight into a startled Bianca.

It made a frightening din.

Nico took advantage of it.

He immediately shot out of his hiding place and ripped the silver flag down from the tree that it was snagged on.

He started running, with both Thalia and Bianca staring at him, equally startled.

"I got the flag! Let's go," he screamed at Thalia over his shoulder.

She immediately scrambled onto her feet and ran.

"How-"

"Percy insisted. No time to explain, I'll tell you about it after the game."

Thalia nodded curtly and they both dashed into the forest, taking advantage of Bianca's shock at her little brother's sudden appearance.

They managed to run a whole fifteen yards before Bianca regained her voice and yelled for back up.

The sound of an object rippling through air was all Nico heard before he found himself on top of Thalia, who in turn had fallen face first on the snow.

"What happened?" Nico asked as he scrambled to his feet.

"It was a trip wire fired from an arrow!" snarled Thalia.

Ah.

So _that's_ where the other guard had run off to.

Another arrow flew by Thalia's cheek, and exploded at her feet.

The pungent smell of sulphur overpowered his senses and he fell to the ground, coughing and gagging.

"Fart arrows are unsportsmanlike!" shouted Thalia, though her eyes were watering from the stench.

The creek was only a few yards away.

Nico could see Percy and Charles chasing Zoe Nightshade as she made deftly her way past the campers.

The distance between the Hunter and the creek was rapidly decreasing.

"Nico, the flag, give me the flag," Thalia said urgently.

"What? Why?"

"Just give it!"

Thalia tilted her spear at him and told him to hold it while she fiddled with a corner of the cloth.

Nico realized what she was about to do.

"Hold," she ordered, thrusting the handle of the spear at him.

His hands trembled with nerves and excitement as she secured the silver flag onto the spear.

Thalia measured the distance with her eyes.

She would be able to throw the necessary distance.

But would he be able to...?

Welp, only one way to find out.

"Percy, catch!"

Thalia let the spear fly.

It seemed as if time slowed down as the weapon cut through the air.

It whizzing past a startled Zoe Nightshade and right into the hands of -

An equally shocked Percy Jackson.

Percy blinked once with surprise as he looked down at the spear in his hands.

He had caught it instinctively.

It had passed in between his left side and arm - a mere inch away from slicing through his stomach.

There was complete silence for one long moment before the forest erupted into cheers.

"Camp Half Blood wins!" announced Chiron happily, clip clopping his feet on the ground.

"For the first of fifty five times," the old centaur muttered to himself gleefully.

The Campers cheered as both sides converged on the creek.

Percy and Thalia each were hoisted up onto the shoulders of the campers.

All the Campers were grinning broadly and cheering loudly.

The Hunters, on the other hand, looked glum.

They were huddled up and were whispering among themselves.

One of the Hunters- the one who'd fired the arrows, if he wasn't wrong- said something while pointing at his sister.

She seemed pretty angry.

Nico noted Bianca hanging her head apologetically as she said something.

He frowned for a fleeting second.

If the Hunters were blaming Bianca for their loss…

It wasn't her fault that they left a rookie in charge of guarding the flag alone.

But before he made up his mind to do something, Zoë had her hand on his sister's shoulder.

She was shaking her head while saying something in a stern tone to the other Hunter who looked abashed.

She then turned to his sister.

Nico assumed she said something nice, as Bianca looked up rather bashfully and nodded.

She smiled shyly and Zoë returned it, along with a regal inclination of her head.

Nico whipped his head around when Thalia scoffed, her eyes trained on the duo as well.

The scowl on her face was obvious to all.

Nico was about to ask her what her problem was when a sudden silence fell on the clearing, like a wave crashing onto the shore.

From his vantage point between the shoulders of two campers, Nico couldn't get clear view of what had caused the hush that had fallen on the group.

But one thing was clear.

Someone, or rather something, was coming towards them.

It was a humanoid figure, shrouded in a poisonous green mist.

As it came closer, Nico could see it was wrapped up in bandages like a mummy.

As far as he could tell, it was possessed, but not against the consent of the host.

Nor did it have any malicious intent towards him or the other campers.

Even though it wasn't a threat to any of them… something about the figure seemed… familiar.

It was only when he heard Chiron's whispered words, did his mind catch up with the situation.

" _Impossible_ ," whispered Chiron disbelievingly, "It… _she_ has never left the attic… _ever._ "

It was strange to see 'it' like this.

He associated 'it' with freckles, paint smears and fiery red hair.

But there was no mistaking 'it'.

'It' was the Oracle of Delphi.

The mummified girl dragged itself near the Hunters, stopping in front of one.

She opened her mouth, green smoke pouring out.

"Approach, Seeker, and ask."

No.

 _Bianca._

* * *

 **Preview:**

A seven year old girl clutched her safety blanket to her chest.

...A minute passed. Then ten.

...She got up and shook herself free, her face pale.

...There was nothing that could be done until dawn...

...But she was missing something…

...But the curiousness lay elsewhere.

...And the Hunters, oh _the Hunters_.

...Annabeth wasn't sure why she was surprised.

..."What are you doing here?"

..."She said something about barriers, land without rain and losing things."

..."If I'm not wrong, Phoebe is a tracker..."

..."Good luck," he added, almost as an afterthought.

* * *

 **A/N** : Oh, and here's a quick question:

 **Who do you think is the Harbinger?**

( _Hint: You know the character_ )


	3. Objects in Motion

**A/N:** Howdy peeps! It's AK with another lovely chapter of WIR! Also, is it just me, or is the word count going up, up and... up?

Well, anyways.

Enjoy this whooper of a chapter!

 **Warning:** If you have Arachnophobia ( _severe fear of spiders_ ), stop at "She would manage. As she always did." There is a line break there. Leave the next portion and go to "She was in her cabin." It's nothing drastic, but I'm a worry wart. Better safe than sorry, eh?

* * *

 **Book one**

 **Arc Three: Creating Cross currents**

 **Chapter 12: Objects in motion**

* * *

A seven year old girl clutched her safety blanket to her chest.

Thinking logically, it would actually provide her little to no safety from the horrors that she knew would come to haunt her.

Nevertheless, she felt comforted by its worn softness.

As some would say, it was the thought that counts.

In any case, the placebo effect is clinically proven after all.

And right now, she needed every bit of comfort she could get.

Her grey eyes were red rimmed as she stared at the door of her bedroom.

Her knees were hugged to her chest by skinny arms.

The line of her spine spelt caution.

She could hear the murmur of voices… a man's and a woman's.

Her father and her step mother, to be exact.

Ah, grownups were _strange_.

They were too blinded by what they knew to see what they didn't.

To put it kindly, they were _fools_.

She tilted her head to try to listen in on their conversation.

She caught a few bits and pieces.

 _'…she's taking crazy… monsters and knives… the spiders…"_

Her head felt heavy.

She let it hang to the left.

She was sure that if they saw her now, they would be convinced that she'd gone insane.

She certainly looked the part.

In a way they would be right.

Two sleepless nights had frayed her nerves.

She had to admit it made her wonder:

How long could a person go without sleep?

She cast her mind into the comfort of numbers.

Though Maureen Weston held the current record at 449 hours, Randy Gardner held the most documented one at 264.4 hours.

But some sources say that he had been uncoordinated and hallucinating towards the end.

Maybe she should wonder how long could she go without sleep before she went insane instead?

She was hyper-aware of every little sound and movement.

She tensed as familiar footsteps were heard outside her door, the floorboards creaking softly.

But as they grew fainter, she paid them no heed.

…They never did believe her when she told them.

Nor would they ever believe her.

' _Don't worry, honey_ ,' they would say,

...As if. She knew how much they hated her.

' _The monsters aren't real.'_

...They were real.

 _'They won't hurt you._ '

...They would try their best to.

' _Just close your eyes._ '

Just how could she when- dammit!

The monsters _were_ real, and they _would_ try to hurt her.

And sometimes, they would succeed too.

She had the scars to prove it.

However, the scars disappeared in the sunlight, like the monsters themselves.

She had no concrete evidence.

But as Carl Sagan rightly said, 'Absence of evidence was not evidence of absence'.

...So why wouldn't anyone _listen_?

She thumbed her blanket moodily.

She sighed and pulled her head back up.

Her hair had weighed her head down in an awkward angle.

It gave her a head ache.

She tried to ease away the pain with her hands.

They were cold as snow, but the cold helped to numb the throbbing ache.

She would manage.

As she always did.

* * *

Of all of the monsters that visited her, there was one thing that struck terror in her heart surer than anything else-

The spiders.

The spiders were the worst of them all.

She shuddered at just their very mention.

Those eight legged arachnids with beady eyes- no!

No, she couldn't bear to think of them.

The mere sight of them had her paralyzed with fear.

But this time, _this_ time she was prepared.

She had a plan of action.

If the spiders came to hurt her, she would _hurt. them. back_.

She knew how to do that now.

She slowly leaned back, and lay down.

Her hair blocked the sight of her hand from any unannounced visitors.

Her fingers grazed the smoothness of wood.

She kept an ear out for footsteps.

She didn't want anything, or anyone, to mess up her plan.

And if the grownups knew what it was, they'd take away the key element.

She ran her finger along its blunt end.

She had stolen it from her father's tool box and stowed it under her pillow.

It didn't give her the same comfort she received from her blanket.

No, the comfort that she eked out of it was cold, cold as steel.

They wouldn't hurt her now.

They _couldn't_ hurt her now.

She tried to convince herself by repeating that phrase in her mind.

Her golden locks splayed across her pillow as she curled into her side and waited.

A minute passed…

Two…

…Then ten.

And so many more that she lost count.

She felt her eyelids grow heavy, her hair tickled her cheek.

Her pillow was soft against her cheek and her covers warm against her side.

Hypnos had her entranced.

She was about to doze off when she startled awake at a soft sound.

She started, propping herself on her elbows to peer at the door.

When nothing happened, she let her shoulders relax a bit.

But she had seen enough horror flicks to let her guard down.

She strained her ears for any sound that would notify her of any new arrival.

Suddenly she sat up fully.

She _knew_ she had heard something.

A scurrying something.

The door creaked open ominously.

She whipped out what was under her pillow- a hammer.

She held it threateningly above her head.

Her heart pounded in her throat as nothing happened for one long minute.

Just as she was about to relax, she drew up again, as taut as a bowstring.

Then she screamed shrilly.

Sweat dripped on her brow as she gazed with horror at the sight and sound of a million little creatures flooding into the room.

Within seconds, they were clambering on the walls and creeping along the floor.

She tried to squash them with her weapon, but if one fell, several others took its place.

The little girl screamed in terror, her usually sharp mind going blank with fear as the light grey walls and white marble floor of her bedroom were rapidly becoming dark as the small room filled with spiders.

She screeched shrilly and scrambled away as a small something fell on her blanket.

She wouldn't look up.

She had a dreadful feeling of what she would see.

But her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they were slowly but surely drawn towards the ceiling.

She stared.

Millions upon millions of tiny eyes stared back at her.

She couldn't help it.

She screamed again, so loud that her own ears were ringing.

As her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one the spiders on the ceiling let go.

The rest of them followed and they fell upon her.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

She took back everything she said about adults.

She really, _really_ wanted her father by her side.

Heck, she'd even take her step mom.

The little beasts would scurry into the shadows whenever she turned on the light.

But this was the third time it happened.

If she had learnt _anything_ from the last two times, it was this:

Help wouldn't come.

She could do nothing but scream and thrash about as the spiders crawled upon and over her.

The innumerable arachnids crawled over her face, and the girl gagged as one nearly fell into her mouth.

She got up and shook herself free, her face pale.

She didn't have much time- the floor was filling up with the arachnids.

One quick sweep sent them flying off the bed; one swift dive got her under her covers.

She drew the blankets over her head, in a hurry.

She wrapped herself up like a mummy.

She rolled around to get rid of any stragglers.

And one she felt herself safe, the tears fell.

The girl choked on her sobs.

She tried to ignore the bitter taste in her mouth and throat as she pressed her lips tightly together and shut her eyes.

She felt helpless.

Next time, next time she would have the upper hand... no.

That was useless.

It was better to run- run far, far away.

She was so tired, tired of it all.

She promised herself that it was the last time.

Tomorrow, she would pack her bags and sneak out.

From there on, she'll go wherever her feet took her.

But for now, there was nothing that could be done.

Not until dawn, when the sunlight would stream through the windows and the creepy-crawlies would scatter without trace, like dust in the wind.

* * *

Annabeth woke up with a gasp.

She was in her cabin.

Her siblings were still asleep in their respective beds.

It was night outside her window.

And it was miraculously spider-free.

She exhaled sharply.

Her more nightmares were more frequent than usual.

You'd think she'd be used to it by now, but it wasn't so.

She tried to recall the skeletal details.

Best get it out of her system before something hurt.

Her frame trembled as she recalled the terrifying sight of the beady eyes on the ceiling.

Ah, that one wasn't a nightmare, per se.

That one was a memory.

She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tight, just as she had done eight years ago.

Tears breached her eyelashes and slipped down her cheeks.

Each and every grotesque detail of her nightmare was burnt in front of her eyelids.

She ran them through her mind as their horror faded slowly but surely.

She waited until her form stopped trembling and her breath evened out a bit.

She took in deep breathes, and soon, she felt the dark tendrils of terror leave her mind completely.

She wiped her cheeks dry.

She knew that she wouldn't be able to fall back to sleep for quite a while.

But she wasn't all that enthused about staying up.

The torches outside her cabin provided very little light, providing an ominous feel.

Moreover, they were unsteady- casting flickering shadows that made her shiver.

In the dark, the Cabin had lost its usual warmth.

She sighed and drew her covers closer to herself.

Was there no end to it?

Just the, an owl hooted outside the window.

Annabeth's lips curved softly.

It almost felt as if her mother was comforting her after her ordeal.

She peered outside the window near her bed.

Though the sun hadn't come up yet, its rays were lightening the lower skyline.

She should be getting ready for her quest.

* * *

Annabeth double checked the contents of her bag.

Naturally, she had her dagger and other necessities.

She stowed away a few extra clothes.

She knew first-hand that even a ratty scarf could go a long way on a cold winter night.

There was also length of rope because, as some would say, you'll only need it if you don't have it.

A few granola bars and a box of Pringles went in, in case of emergencies.

(Experience told her that the chips would be smashed to pieces soon enough. She told experience to can it.)

She also had a blanket, her Yankees cap, a thermos of cocoa, a book on Greek monsters, a pouch with some drachmas and a lighter.

But she was missing something…

Oh, of course!

She had used all of the ambrosia on Nico di Angelo.

She felt a pang of guilt at the memory of her carelessness.

She should have taken consideration of all the factors in regards to the situation.

It wasn't like her usual self to make such a major mistake.

...Thank the Gods that Apollo was at hand to help.

Death due to an overdose of godly food would have been a poor return to someone who just saved her friends.

Annabeth slung the satchel across her right shoulder and made her way to the infirmary.

And the kid truly _had_ saved her friends.

She could hardly believe her eyes when the younger di Angelo turned the Manticore into a monster shish-kebab.

Truth be told, she had been mightily impressed by the boy.

Who wouldn't be if one sees a mere child kill a monster over three times their size?

And there was just something about that kid which seemed to scream 'veteran' in a way that no one could deny...

He probably had a rough life prior to this.

But that there, was another curious thing of note.

In the many years she was a part of Camp Half Blood, she had witnessed the arrival of many young demigods.

Each had their own unique story to tell and not all of them had been as fortunate as she had been.

But if one had a curious mind, one could draw out the similarities of various cases.

And so, she knew this-

If a pair of siblings go through some form of hardship, it was usually the elder one who would seem worse for the wear.

This was because, in any regular case, the elder sibling would take up extra responsibilities and the brunt of the burden to spare the younger one.

Naturally, there were exceptions.

Science was the art of exception, after all.

Annabeth knew that better than anyone.

But the curiousness lay elsewhere.

At first, Annabeth thought Bianca was the anomaly.

She soon deduced that it wasn't the case.

She had noticed that Bianca had an eye for her brother's well-being that could only be precise by practice.

It showed itself in the Sun chariot, where Bianca noted her brother's discomfort long before anyone had even an inkling that something was wrong.

She could also see that something of her brother's behavior was troubling Bianca.

Maybe it wasn't a conscious action.

But every now and then, she would touch Nico on his arm or on his shoulder (whenever he would allow her), as if to confirm that her brother was alright.

Naturally, Annabeth may be over thinking it.

It may have been because Bianca had seen her brother brush the hem of Death's cloak twice that day.

Additionally, she was not able to spend ample time with him after she joined the Hunters.

And the Hunters, oh _the Hunters_.

Annabeth sighed.

They seemed so _perfect_.

They stood for the idea of _freedom_ , belonging to a sisterhood, and... of a life free of heartbreak…

She shook her head to ward off thoughts of a certain blue-eyed blonde-haired boy.

She hadn't joined the Hunters the first time the offered, mostly because Thalia hated them, and seeing that Thalia gave up her life for her, it had seemed like a poor return.

But now that Thalia was human again…

Well, it certainly opened up many new and exciting possibilities.

Possibilities of which Lady Artemis had spoken to her privately about after her talk with Nico di Angelo.

And there, there was _another_ puzzle to solve.

What was Nico di Angelo's deal with Artemis?

'Settling matters' Lady Artemis had said when Annabeth asked...

But why would Lady Artemis want to settle matters with a child?

A male, no less?

It was strange enough that neither Nico nor Artemis revealed the fine details of their conversation.

Annabeth had an inkling that it was about the dream Nico had.

She felt a shudder go down her spine as she recalled the way Nico had spoken of that dream of his.

The tone of his voice had disturbed her.

And now, she felt worry gnawing at her insides.

That boy had a penchant for trouble.

Nico was a young boy, but his manner of speaking and the way that he held himself that made him seem like he was much older than he was.

Not to mention his sharp eye for detail and sharper wit.

But here, she reached her destination- the infirmary.

Annabeth stepped into the building and looked around.

It was devoid of human life.

What?

Where were the...?

Ah.

The Apollo campers... rose with the sun.

Annabeth heard a shuffle of feet behind her.

She whirled around startled to see a pair of blue eyes peering out of a mop of blond hair.

"Um, may I help you Ms. Annabeth?" asked the child.

"Ah, yes. Please..."

After a few polite words, she received a slab of ambrosia from the Apollo kid, Will Solace, she reminded herself as he smiled brightly, though sleepily, at her.

She smiled in return and snuggled the nectar safely into her bag. She left the infirmary and made her way to the Big House.

It was almost first light, it would only be a little while before the horizon lazily lighting up with the sullen hues of dawn.

Annabeth snapped her head to the side at the sight of a moving shadow.

She stilled completely, save for the hand slipping into her pocket and pulling out her Yankees cap.

She silently slipped it on her head and soundlessly made her way towards whatever it was.

She seriously hoped that it wasn't a monster.

Yes, Thalia's tree still gave camp an impenetrable barrier, but Luke had meddled with it once and would meddle with it again if he could.

But her fears were put to rest as she recognized the silhouette hidden behind the Greek column.

It was Nico di Angelo.

Annabeth wasn't sure why she was surprised.

That boy was a magnet for trouble. He was even worse than Percy!

Well… almost worse.

 _He_ wasn't the one who had the Greek God of War as an enemy.

Annabeth felt her lips curve slightly at the thought of the Seaweed Brain.

But back to di Angelo.

What was the little devil up to _now_?

Almost as if he could hear her thoughts, Nico whipped his head around and peered suspiciously into the darkness.

"Who is there?" he whispered.

Annabeth took off her cap with a flourish.

"Annabeth? How- Oh, your invisibility cap."

Annabeth nodded.

"What are you doing here?" Nico whispered, shoulders relaxing slightly.

Annabeth indicated the thermos tucked under her arm and said, "I could ask the same to you."

"Well, it's a bit of a long story."

"I've got some time to spare."

Nico took a deep breath in.

"Well, at first, I was at my Cabin, but I woke up couldn't go back to sleep, so I was looking out of the window for a while, but then I heard some voices outside the window. I didn't think much of it at first, but then I recognized one of them as Bianca's. She sounded really worried and sort of scared, so I decided to go after her, in case she needed help,"

"Who was she with?" asked Annabeth.

It would be bad to be seen with unknown personnel... especially in a time like this.

"The Head Hunter girl with her. Uh, Zoë Nightshade."

Annabeth sighed with relief.

"Go on," she said.

"Zoe also seemed tense. So I thought that Bianca might be in trouble. Especially since some Hunters were saying that she was sort of responsible for the Hunters losing the Capture the Flag. And like, they have lost for the first time in-"

"First time in fifty years, yes, but what does this have to do with you out here?"

"Well... you see, during the game of Capture the flag, I was at the clearing where the Huntresses hid their flag. Not that it was particularly _hidden_... And as you know, Bianca was the guard. I didn't do much on the whole, but she got distracted when she saw me and that may or may not have cost the Huntresses their game..."

Annabeth was speechless.

"Stick to your post next time," she said, finally.

She made a mental note to never leave Nico alone with the Hunters if she could help it.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said sheepishly.

"Never mind that. So they were talking about the match," prompted Annabeth.

"No, actually, I just thought that they were. Once I followed them a bit, I realized that they were talking about the Quest. Sure, it's my sister's first quest, and I'm really proud of her, but the Prophesy itself seems… I had to make sure that she was alright," said Nico uncertainly.

"Yeah, I get what you mean," said Annabeth soothing.

It must be hard on him.

"Is there anything you want to talk to me about?" she asked.

"They said that that Phoebe girl was in bed rest with a severe case of hives."

Annabeth's mood immediately soured at the mention of her fellow Quest-mate's ailment.

Her mind recalled the Stolls' suspicious present.

She groaned.

"Do you mean to say that Phoebe is unable to participate in the Quest?"

Nico nodded seriously.

"I think you will need another to replace her. But Zoë was adamant about not having anyone else."

"What- but why?"

"She said something about... uh, what was it? Barriers, land without rain and losing things. Something like that."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Annabeth argued.

"Well, yeah, I didn't hear everything, but-"

"That's not what I meant. Sure, 'the land without rain' may refer to Camp Half Blood as the magical barrier doesn't let anything in without consent, not even the weather. But the border has only been here for seven years. And I'm sure that it has rained at least once since then."

Annabeth huffed.

"She's just trying to justify her actions."

"Umm… okay?" said Nico, hesitant.

"And I bet Zoë knows that too," said Annabeth, in a 'putting-two-and-two-together' voice, "And I think I can get where she comes from. Just think about it."

"Think about what- Okay, I get it. I'll just shut up now..."

Nico was quiet as Annabeth tried to see the point from the Huntress's perspective.

"She's worried about the Prophesy," she deduced.

"Especially about the last line. I believe there is something she has not divulged a few potentially important aspects of her dream to her fellow Quest-mates… and I think she knows, or at least, suspects, who the 'General' is. She doesn't want to lose any of her Hunters."

Annabeth looked at Nico with expectant eyes.

"...Well, whoever Zoë may be as a person, she is deeply loyal to Lady Artemis and the Hunters," obliged Nico, putting in his own two cents.

"She's trying to make sure that no one else gets into the mess," said Annabeth, understanding washing over her like the tide, "But… that also means that she will not budge on her decision. No matter what I say will to convince her. So maybe I should follow her lead..."

There was silence for a while.

Annabeth had a nagging feeling that somewhere, something was amiss.

She thought back to what she just said.

It felt like she was prodding at a loose tooth.

Nico was looking at Annabeth as if he was waiting for her to figure it out so that he could leave.

His expression reminded her of her younger step-brother.

He was at the age where he was loosing his milk teeth and her step-mother had said...

' _It will fall when the time comes. You can't ask the sun to rise earlier can you?_ '

Something clicked.

Dread pooled in Annabeth's stomach at the sudden thought.

"But Chiron said that we'd leave at dawn,"

"…Yes?"

"That means the Quest starts at dawn," Annabeth clarified.

Nico looked even more confused.

"The Quest, the Quest," said Annabeth impatiently.

"She wasn't supposed to be a part of the Quest then?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes," said Annabeth, mind working at a hundred miles per hour, "The last member must leave with us. Assuming of course, that Zoë Nightshade accepts the new member."

Nico frowned.

"I see...?"

"I don't think we have the time for that. If I want to get Nightshade's approval, we won't have a replacement."

"But that wouldn't that mean-"

"That would mean we would be going into an already lethal quest with one person short," said Annabeth nodding her head.

Nico looked like she had thrown him off a cliff.

Suddenly, Annabeth realized that she had probably said too much.

The whole conversation started because Nico was worrying about his sister, after all.

"Um, but-"

"Well then," Nico cut in, "I'll be heading back to the Hermes cabin."

"...Huh?"

He turned tail and walked away with long strides.

Annabeth felt a bit wrong-footed.

Did she miss something?

He stopped, just as sudden as he started.

He looked back, hesitant, "I wasn't going to say anything because it's your quest after all, but if- nah, forget it."

Annabeth was curious.

"What is it?"

"Never mind that. But a word of advice. If I'm not wrong, Phoebe is a tracker. To replace her, I suggest looking for a certain Satyr."

 _A satyr? Does he mean Grover?_ Annabeth wondered.

"What? But why?"

"Call it a hunch," Nico said as he made his way back to the Hermes Cabin.

"Good luck," he threw over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought.

At that moment, Annabeth felt that of all the boys in the world, she understood that boy the least.

* * *

 **Bonus** : Even as the two parted ways, one deeply troubled and the other deep in thought, neither of them noticed a pair of hurt, jealous green eyes listening to every word of their exchange.

* * *

 **Preview** :

Bianca glanced out of the window of the Lexus on the 'Sun West Line' freight train.

...But if a girl could dream…

...Her Lady needed saving. No matter at what cost.

...The giant robot above her exploded.

... _Nico, brother, forgive me._

 _..._ What kind of sorcery was this?

... "Lu-Luke Callestan."

...She had fallen asleep on the statues.

...Mount Othrys. The Mountain of Despair.

...It did not back down. And neither did she.

... _Let's get this show on the road._

 _..._ Landon's injuries would hinder her ability to fight.

...Her loss was mourned by many.

...Only one of the two was completely unsuspicious of his tumble through time.

* * *

 **Anon reviews** : You lovelies! Each and every one of you!

 **Guest** : _jhalkjheefhksdjfk (a keyboard smash to make your day)_ / Thank you m'dear!

 **Guest** : _The power shift thing's pretty cool... seems like Nico's not planning to settle in?/_ I'm glad you think so! And no he isn't, at least, not yet.

 **DerangedFangirl** : I'm glad you liked the story! And I'm sorry the stories per arc is confusing. Maybe I can set the whose of the next book as one story, but I'll have to think about it. But thank you for informing me about this!

 **MisterWhite** : Thanks! Malcolm is a severely underrated character in the series and I wanted him to get some spotlight. And yes, all of the team names are references to some fandom or the other. And (correct me if I'm wrong) you think Percy is the Harbinger, eh? Interesting...

 **Matt** : Ah, thanks for pointing it out, it's fixed now! And I've given another, hopefully clearer, hint on who it is at the end of the chapter.

 **BaraBara** : I'm glad you liked Nico's characterization!

* * *

 **A/N** : I'll repeat the question:

 **Who do you think the Harbinger is?**

 _(Hint: Refer Chapter 6: Flashbacks and Echoes. He has a POV all to himself.)_


	4. The Quest For Artemis

**A/N** : Hello lovelies! Rest your eyes on this new chapter!

Please note that this chapter comprises mainly of cut-scenes of the TC book, modified to fit the WIR-verse. Anything apart from this more or less follows the original story line.

* * *

 **Book One**

 **Third Arc: Creating Cross-Currents**

 **Chapter 13: The Quest For Artemis**

* * *

Bianca glanced out of the window of the Lexus.

How peculiar.

She was riding a train in a car.

Such things only happen on the 'Sun West Line' freight train.

She was sharing her car with her Lieutenant.

Alone for once.

There was barely any conversation- the day had been long, and both of them were exhausted.

Their Quest-mates were left to their own devices.

Thalia and Annabeth were in a sleek black Mercedes SLK.

Grover sat alone in a Lamborghini.

Bianca took note of where they were, in case of emergencies.

And their if journey was as thing as it had been until then, well-

It might come in handy.

If this Quest wasn't a story to tell around the campfire, she didn't know what was.

When Annabeth showed up with Grover, announcing that the Satyr was joining them in the Quest, she had... caused a stir to say the least.

(Truly, Bianca had wondered if Annabeth was omnipotent)

Her lieutenant had been seething, refusing to journey with a male.

Percy Jackson had somehow caught wind of this and had participated in it with gusto.

After that, there was arguing that devolved into name-calling.

Bianca had never hated Thalia's habit of tazing people as much as she did then.

Suffice to say, water and electricity- _not_ a good mix. For anyone involved.

Finally, Chiron had to step in and take the reigns.

Zoë had been utterly unsatisfied, but had to concede that they needed a tracker with Phoebe missing.

And so they went on their way with their newest addition.

She glanced once more at her dozing companion.

Brown eyelashes were lowered, concealing brown eyes.

She sat comfortably in her seat, legs on the dashboard and shoulders relaxed.

Her cheeks were slightly mushed by the collar of her silver parka.

She looked much different from the usual, stoic Huntress.

Now, she looked almost... _cute_.

Bianca fought back a blush.

It simply wouldn't do to think of her leader so.

How strange.

She had never felt this way before.

Ah, but she had to admit that life after she found out that she was a demigod was… interesting, to say the least.

First the Manticore, then the Hunters, the Bus ride, Camp Half Blood, the Quest…

It was a whirlwind of activity and she had never felt so _alive_.

And she had met so many new people too.

People like Annabeth, Phoebe, Thalia, Lieutenant Zoë…

Especially Lieutenant Zoë.

Her Lieutenant held herself with such _confidence_ , fought with utmost determination for what she believed in, was so ready to sacrifice _anything_ at the word of their Lady…

Truly, if given the choice, if she was to be anybody but herself, she would be Zoë Nightshade.

She was just... perfection incarnate.

And she had the nicest smile.

She shook away any and all thoughts with another blush.

This simply wouldn't do!

But if a girl could dream…

She bunched up her Nemean Lion coat around her for warmth.

Truth be told, ever since she got it after defeating the lion itself, Zoë wouldn't look at her in the eye.

She felt a bit hurt, but she was sure that the older girl had her own reasons.

Nevertheless, Zoe felt comfortable enough around her to fall asleep.

That had to mean _something_ , right?

She smiled faintly.

Speaking of the Nemean Lion-

Who would have thought that her little Nico's obsession with Mythomagic would have saved them all that day?

If her brother hadn't gone on and _on_ about how Hercules subdued the beast-

Bianca shuddered to think of the consequences.

And shuddered again at the memory of her brother's dream.

She didn't really believe in the hocus pocus of dream interpretation, but Percy and Annabeth seemed really concerned about it.

And now, they were on their way to save Lady Artemis.

She could only hope that everything would work out.

* * *

Bianca was taking back everything nice she said about life as a demigod.

Between fighting Skeletons that tracked people's scent, dealing with Nature Gods who sent Satyrs into hysterics and riding giant wild boars which had strangely pronounced names, she had had more than enough.

By the time they had dismounted from the tusked beast, they had traveled miles upon miles, flying over hills and vales until they reached a dry land with thorny shrubs and cacti.

It looked like it hadn't rained in years.

Maybe even forever.

 _One shall be lost in a land without rain._

Bianca sent a nervous glance towards Zoë, who sent a troubled look back.

When Grover pointed towards the junkyard filled with metallic devices, her heart all but stopped.

The lines of the Prophesy mixed with the words of her brother as they rang in her ears like the chiming bells heralding death.

She didn't know how, but a certainty welled up within her- if she entered the junk yard, her fate would be sealed.

But she forged on.

Her Lady needed saving.

No matter at what cost.

* * *

The metal interior of the automaton was sweltering hot.

Sweat poured down her face as she madly pushed buttons and pulled levers in random.

Her brother had warned her.

He had _begged_ her.

But she, being the fool she was, hadn't _listened_.

 _Why didn't she listen?_

And she had said… horrible things.

 _She never did apologize for what she'd said, did she?_

The dashboard started spitting electric sparks.

 _And now, she would never get the chance._

No!

No, she wanted to _live._

She _would_ live.

Bianca looked around in panic.

She couldn't stay there any longer.

But had she brought her fellow Quest members enough time?

Suddenly she stilled, looking at a seemingly empty corner.

It felt as if... her brother was there.

 _You were just about to die and we both knew it. You looked at me and- and-_

She made up her mind.

She kicked at the metal trapdoor underneath her feet.

Just before she jumped, she smiled at the distinctive corner.

It was a reckless smile- bold and beautiful.

If there was truly no way for her to live on, then so be it.

But if she had _any_ control over her fate, even a silver, then she would make sure of this-

Her brother will not watch her die like a rat in a maze.

She hit the ground hard.

She tried to scramble to her feet, but she felt strangely exhausted.

All she managed was a weird spasm.

What was going on- oh.

The metal was sucking away her strength.

She felt frustration nip at her.

She had to move, she had to-

Wha- What's this?

She picked up a piece of twisted metal.

It a small Mythomagic figure.

The Hades figurine.

The only one that Nico didn't have.

She felt a sudden rush of emotion.

If only she could get it back to him, if only she could tell him she was sorry, so, so sorry…

The giant robot above her exploded.

As it fell, shrapnel fell with her in a deadly rain.

Bianca gasped, sure that she was going to die any second.

Not knowing what else to do, she prayed.

She unconsciously hugged the mall figurine to her chest.

 _Father… I- I don't know who you are. But if you're listening- please, let me survive this, let me_ live _. If not for me, then for my little brother._

Metal shards flew in all directions.

A large piece impaled the ground, missing her shoulder by mere inches.

Soon, Bianca was completely buried under metal.

She shrouded in darkness, she had just one thought-

 _This is the end._

She heard vague screams of her name in the background.

It glanced off her like water off a duck's back.

She was thinking of her only remaining living relative.

And she felt remorse.

What had she done?

He'd never been alone in his life, how will he fare?

She never should have left him.

And now, she'd leave him forever.

 _Nico, brother, forgive me._

She closed her palm over the little metal figurine.

It was the last thing she did before the darkness consumed her.

* * *

The Fates cut a short blue thread with a pair of red scissors.

 _Bianca di Angelo, you will be remembered_.

* * *

 _My fault, my fault, my fault,_ chanted Annabeth to herself.

How could she have been so stupid?

She wasn't worthy to be called a child of Athena.

Why in Hades' name did she hold onto that stupid silver crescent clip?

And the look on Bianca's face when she showed her the clip with trembling hands-

The shock, the determination and worst of all, the understanding…

Why had she done that?

 _She_ was the one who should have died, not Bianca.

Why did Bianca step in?

But no, it wasn't Bianca's fault.

It was Annabeth's.

It was all her fault.

Gods of Olympus, what would she tell Nico?

* * *

Nico woke up in a daze.

He looked at the clock nearby.

It showed three thirty a.m.

 _Wha- oh._

Oh _._

He rubbed his reddish eyes.

He had cried himself to sleep last night.

Nico frowned to himself, blinking away the pesky scratchiness at its corners.

He checked the calendar.

The clock again, for good measure.

He _knew_ what time it was.

He _knew_ what day it was.

He _knew_ what should happen but…

But there was a conspicuous absence of that all too familiar ringing in his ears.

And in his dream just now…

Well, he didn't remember much of it.

But there had been something strange about it...

Ah, yes, Bianca had jumped.

Wait a minute...

 _What_?

Impossible.

It was impossible.

It was impossible and he couldn't suppress that feeling of heart shattering _hope_ -

It came back to him in bits and pieces.

She had smiled at him.

Did that mean...?

Is possible that she was…?

Did he- did he do it?

He couldn't feel her presence, no matter how thoroughly he searched.

But he knew for sure.

Bianca wasn't in the Underworld.

But did that mean...?

Did he… _do_ it?

Incredulity swept his being.

What kind of sorcery was this?

Did the Universe finally decide to give him a break?

(Yeah right. When Kronos invites Zeus to a tea party. But _still_ -)

Maybe- just _maybe_ \- things could be resolved peacefully.

At the very least, he could afford to have a good night's sleep.

He burrowed into his blankets and went back to sleep, hope soaking through him like the warmth of a hearth fire.

But before he was lost to the world, he had one thought-

Where the heck _was_ she?

* * *

The thread that had just been snipped shimmered blue before melding back together.

The Three Fates looked somber.

 _Beware, Angel Victor, by doing this you have unleashed a monster more powerful than you ever were._

* * *

Bianca rubbed her eyes and looked around.

She still held the little metal figurine in her hand.

Tears welled up as she remembered her brother's cheery chattering.

She quickly stuffed it into her pocket.

She had decided.

If she ever got out of this place, she was giving it to Nico.

But what was this place?

Judging from the roughness of stone walls, she was in a cave.

She evaluated her surroundings as she set a brisk pace.

No need to give her pursuers, if any, a head start.

Though the walls were crude, the stone itself was smooth.

Bianca wan't familiar with the different types of stones but she gave it her best shot.

Smooth... and dark, nearly black... shiny...

Obsidian, maybe?

Wait.

Obsidian walls?

Which famous Greek structure had imposing obsidian walls?

While she wasn't familiar with Greek architecture, Nico had mentioned this particular one time and again.

Oh dear.

Was she dead?

Oh, but she might have remembered wrong.

And she wasn't sure that the walls were made of… obsidian…

She felt a chill run down her spine and picked up her pace.

Sometime later, she found herself in a wide cavern.

She looked around for a clue of some sort when she startled.

Her gaze fell on a dark shape holding up seemingly nothing.

As she looked closer, she realized that it was a blonde boy with a scar running down his face.

And he was in pain.

He lay crumpled on the rocky ground, unable to rise.

The darkness seemed to be thicker around him, fog swirling hungrily.

His clothes were in tatters and his face was scratched and drenched with sweat.

"Please!" he called. "Help me! Please!"

She went closer, ever cautious.

For some reason, she wasn't really comfortable with this person.

Still, she felt around, trying to find a way to help.

In hopes of distracting the other from his pain, she initiated conversation.

"What's your name?"

"Lu-Luke Callestan."

"Luke. Okay, do you know where we are?"

"We're at- at the Mountain of- of Despair," he wailed.

The name made her shiver.

But then again, it probably was meant to do that.

"What happened to you?"

"They abandoned me," Luke groaned, "Please make it stop. It will kill me."

 _Kill you? So you aren't dead? That means- Yosh! I'm still_ alive _._

She sent a mental 'thank you' to her Godly parent.

"Who? Who left you?" she said to the boy.

"The- The General." he gasped out.

Bianca gasped and took seven steps back.

While she didn't know much about the demigod world, she _did_ know that anyone associated with the 'General' was bad, bad news.

"What is your relation to him?"

"I- I just-"

"Speak or I'll kill you, here and now."

"I was his subordinate," he finally muttered.

Bianca immediately shifted into a defensive stance.

"Please. I won't hurt - _Help_ me."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Please, if you don't help me, I'll die."

"Then die! You deserve it for hurting Lady Artemis," she called back angrily.

"No wait! I'll give you what you want. Whatever you want!"

"There is nothing I'd want from a scoundrel such as the General!"

"I can- I can tell you about Artemis! I can lead you to her."

That stopped her short.

"What do you know about my Lady?"

"I have- I know where she is. And where she will be. If you let me die, you'll lose your chance to find out!"

Bianca hesitated at that.

But if she hadn't, things would have gone much, much differently.

The darkness above Luke began to crumble, like a cavern roof in an earthquake.

Huge chunks of black rock began falling.

Bianca rushed in just as a crack appeared, and the whole ceiling dropped.

She held it somehow.

She kept it from collapsing on her and Luke with little more than her own strength.

It was impossible.

She shouldn't have been able to do that.

 _How did she do that?_

Luke rolled free, gasping.

When he turned back to face her, he seemed like a whole different person.

"Thanks," he managed; sarcasm evident in each syllable.

"Tell me where she is," she gasped out.

Luke caught his breath and rose unsteadily.

"You crazy witch," he spat, "Should've known that you wouldn't fall for the pity act."

He laughed.

"But I knew I could count on your dedication to find your Lady."

He began to walk away as the trembling blackness threatened to crush her.

"Where _is_ she!" she demanded, her will unbowed even under duress.

"Oh, don't worry," Luke said. "You'll meet her soon. Help is on the way. It's all part of the plan. In the meantime- try not to die."

The ceiling of darkness began to crumble again, and her world of pain began.

* * *

Thalia woke up with a gasp.

She had fallen asleep on the statues.

(Gods knew how she managed that.

The heights were bad enough.

But add that to the fact that their lost quest member reminded her of another incident… she expected nothing short of insomnia.)

Annabeth was behind her, burrowed into Bianca's Nemean lion coat.

She looked terrible.

Thalia knew that she blamed herself for the loss of their Quest member.

As she should.

They _had_ been warned.

What had that girl been thinking when she picked up that hairpin?

But she was her sister in all but blood and she could never be angry with her for long.

Especially not when she looked so miserable.

And her dream…

Her brows furrowed as she remembered the details.

She couldn't believe it.

Bianca was… alive? How? The Prophesy said that one of them was supposed to die in the land without rain.

Only…

It hadn't.

It had said one would be _lost_.

And Bianca hadn't known where she was.

Wherever she was.

But something about that was rubbing her wrong…

 _It rained on every place on Earth_ , she realized, _even in the deserts_.

The deserts were just places that didn't have _enough_ rain.

But if there wasn't a place where it didn't rain, then… what land was without rain?

The answer was absurdly simple.

A land that didn't _exist_.

Mount Othrys.

The Mountain of Despair.

The throne of Kronos that was destroyed.

It didn't exist, not anymore.

 _Bianca was alive_.

Thalia savored that thought, letting it wash through her.

She was alive…

And Luke had…

Thalia turned her head away.

She knew that her old friend went astray.

She knew that she had to fight him.

She knew that she might have to kill him.

But knowing something and being forced to admit it was a huge difference.

She didn't want to fight Luke, but…

Luke had injured an innocent.

And no matter what reservations she had against the Huntress, Bianca _was_ innocent.

Her eyes flashed with new-found determination.

She _would_ save Bianca. She owed it to her after the girl saved Annabeth.

(And no, the fact that Bianca had really pretty eyes had no part in her decision what-so-ever)

(…Except maybe just a little bit)

* * *

Thalia stared at the spear in her hand, the Manticore's words settling comfortably in her ears.

It made sense.

Perfect sense, even.

The rush of power she was feeling, the way the Ophiotaurus responded to her call, and her father never really cared for her…

 _'Except he did,'_ a voice whispered, ' _He saved your friends at your plea, first at the gates of CHB and then at the Hoover Dam.'_

That voice was squished like a bug in the rush of power.

And the one they called Lord Kronos couldn't _possibly_ be as bad as they made out.

 _'But he is,'_ said that insistent little voice, a bit stronger, ' _He_ is _that bad_. _You_ know _that he is that bad.'_

The voice was dutifully squashed again.

And Luke, dear Luke, the only one who ever had her back, the first person who treated her like family, the one who-

 _'The one who tricked Bianca into holding up the sky, the one who blackmailed Artemis into taking it from her, the one who was_ not _the Luke she nearly gave up her life for those seven years ago.'_

The voice was even stronger this time, standing against that undeniable power with sheer determination.

It did not back down.

And neither did she.

She held onto it with all her might and then some.

She refused to succumb.

The scales fell from her eyes at the memory of brown eyes belonging to a battered body, bowing under the weight of the sky flashed through her mind.

She regained control of her senses.

The Luke who was their enemy was not her Luke.

Not anymore.

He was the one who was threatening Olympus.

He was the one who betrayed her.

He was the one who betrayed them all.

The rush of power waned and Thalia staggered.

The spell, enchantment or whatever was broken.

She caught her balance by placing a hand against the ground.

And smirked.

 _Let's get this show on the road._

* * *

"Bianca!"

In the rough grip of a monster and her pallor looking like death warmed over, she breathed shallowly.

The girl looked exhausted.

She had silver streaks through her hair from when she held up the sky.

But that was fine, more than fine, because she was _supposed to be dead_ , but she _wasn't_.

Of all those present, Zoë Nightshade was the most relieved that her newest recruit was still alive.

Personal fondness aside, the girl would make a wonderful second-in-command.

And she hadn't forgotten Lady Artemis's request to keep an eye on the younger di Angelo, to make sure that he did not accidently stray into the wrong side.

(She had a feeling that he would cross over in a heartbeat if the Luke boy held his sister over him)

But even as relief coursed through her, her heart was in sheer agony.

Lady Artemis, her wonderful Lady, was being crushed under the weight of the sky.

Her heart broke at the sight of her tortured face.

If only she hadn't forbidden her from taking her place…

But one thing at a time.

Her Titan father loomed over her and her fellow Quest-mates.

She appraised the situation coolly, shutting away her heart's wailing.

Landon's injuries would hinder her ability to fight.

In usual cases, it would make the difference between life and death.

But with her immortal opponent, this was a fight to certain death.

 _Her_ death.

She looked at her father- no, at General Atlas with dark, angry eyes.

She could practically _see_ his contempt.

But that was fine.

She strung her bow and pulled an arrow from her quiver.

It had once been said that a dying opponent was a desperate one.

And a desperate opponent was all the more dangerous for it.

* * *

That night, Bianca sat trembling under Thalia's arm, the lieutenant's circlet set atop short, curly locks.

(The two co-Quest members had matching silver streaks in their hair from when they held up the sky.

As one.)

That night, Annabeth had refused Lady Artemis's offer of becoming a hunter, even though Thalia herself decided to join.

(She still felt that if she hadn't picked up that stupid hairclip, they wouldn't have gone through the ordeal that they had gone through.

She felt that she didn't deserve the honor.)

That night, a daughter of Hades and a daughter of Zeus stood united against the wrath of Olympus.

And in the end, they emerged victorious.

(The phenomenon was awe-inspiring enough to convince the Olympian council to let them live.)

That night Zoë Nightshade became one with the stars.

Her loss was mourned by many.

(But none more than Bianca di Angelo.)

* * *

Nico was softly shaken out of his peaceful state of sleep by the warm beam of light falling on his face through the window on the wall of his side of the room.

It had almost been too long since his last nightmare-free night.

He opened his eyes blearily and took in the sight of the cabin in the muted colors of the rising sun.

The pale, early morning light glinted through the windows, illuminating the faces of the sleeping campers on the beds and on the floor.

The wooden walls of the cabin had a warm reddish-brown hue, giving the whole place a homey atmosphere.

The floor was crowded with campers, but rather than suffocate him, it made him breathe easier.

He wasn't entirely sure why.

Maybe it was because there were so many people around him that he knew (and who had died) in the other timeline.

Maybe it was for the simple fact that they saw him as a _person_.

Not as a Monster, not as a God, but human, like them.

(At least, for now)

Maybe he felt so because it felt so… ordinary.

He knew that it wouldn't last.

He _knew_ that but…

His gaze fell onto the campers who were on the floor and in the beds with something akin to fondness.

Here, now.

Nobody was awake, no one to judge him, no one who looked to him for support, no one who he had to impress.

He could be whoever he wanted to in those precious few moments.

No one would look up to him at the current point of time.

Not when he was twelve and untrained.

And speaking of training…

He peered at the clock on the wall opposite to him.

It read five forty-five.

He decided to head out to the Arena.

He delicately made his way towards the door, making an effort to avoid stepping on anyone.

The wooden door swung close soundlessly as he stepped out.

He tipped his head to greet the cool early morning breeze.

He found his lips curl into a soft smile.

The crimson sun was rising lazily above the horizon.

He wasn't the only one awake.

Some of the Apollo campers were heading towards the infirmary.

Kayla waved at him, but most of them were grumpily mumbling something about needing more coffee.

He went to the training area with slow, languid steps.

He felt the moving air teasingly twirl the dark curls on his head, invisible fingers carding through.

It reminded him of his Mother's touch.

He enjoyed the cool crispness of the air as the chillness seeped through his aviator's jacket and his new CHB T-shirt.

He listened to the crunch of the fresh snow underneath his feet harmonize with the soft, soothing noises of the early morning life.

His eyes took in the sight of Camp Half Blood bathed in a pretty shade of gold in the temperate rays of the mild winter sun.

It was a good day.

However, neither did her notice the two pairs of eyes following his small figure-

One of which being a troubled brown and the other, a piercing green,

Nor that only one of the two was completely unsuspicious of his tumble through time.

* * *

 **A/N** : Thank you, my dear readers, for sticking with me through out the whole of this book.

Because you have- this chapter marks the end of Book One!

It might seem a bit sudden, but I'll be taking a hiatus after this.

The Second Book had been plotted out and drafted, but has to be properly put together.

And this will take time- a lot of it.

There are also other projects I'm working on, and if you are in the Ever After High fandom and/or the Voltron fandom, keep an eye out! I'm planning for a fic in each of them.

There will be an epilogue after this, so please look forward to it!

Oh, one last thing:

 **Who do you think is the Harbinger?**


	5. Epicinium

**A/N:** Hey y'all! It's AK here. This has been a wild ride, not going to lie.

When I first started this out, this was a birthday gift for the one and only, my BFFA Aquila.

To be honest, I wasn't planning on putting it up.

But when Aquila suggested it, I thought that it may not be such a bad idea.

I was pretty nervous, since this was my first fic.

But the response was overwhelmingly good.

And that was because of all you lovely readers!

So as thanks, I'm dedicating this chapter to all of you!

Today's chapter is called 'Epicinium', meaning 'Aftermath' in Latin.

I hope you like it, and without further ado... the final chapter of Written in Reverse Book One!

* * *

 **Book one**

 **Arc Three: Creating Cross currents**

 **Chapter 14: Epicinium**

* * *

Jason felt exhilarated.

He knew that _something_ had happened.

He wasn't sure _what_.

But... he was sure it was important.

He had a feeling that it was something powerful.

But not a bad something no-

It was a something that was really, really good.

Unfortunately, he had no idea what it was.

Though he _did_ have a feeling that it had something to do with the incident that took place in the Lilith's family home.

Truth be told, he still wasn't entirely sure what happened.

One minute the room had been filled with laughter and the next with silence.

* * *

Jason could see his friends' mouths moving, but it was like his ears were blocked by cotton.

He looked about in confusion, there seemed nothing amiss...

He turned his head, but it felt like he was moving underwater.

His eyes fell to one of the dimmer corners of the room.

There, he saw was a shadow of a humanoid figure.

 _A flash of dark eyes, a flip of dark hair, a faint, dark smile._

But as soon as he did, it vanished.

Jason blinked twice in confusion.

And had a sudden feeling of loss.

His eyes popped and he could hear clearly again.

When he moved his hand, it was a curt movement.

At his sudden movement, the conversation ceased again.

"Jason?" asked Lilith, the praetor's tone gentle.

Jason looked at her, his face suddenly wan.

Marcus didn't say anything, but looked as if he was ready to catch him if he fell.

"Jason, are you all right?"

"Yeah," he said, mind running a mile a minute, trying to etch that silhouette into memory.

 _Deceptively skinny hands, tightly drawn shoulders, dark clothing over pale skin._

"What happened?" tried Lilith.

 _Familiar, familiar, familiar..._

Jason looked up.

"I think I had a premonition..."

* * *

Lilith had asked him a few more tentative questions before Marcus was clapping him on the back and telling him that he'd be replacing Octavian if these 'visions' kept up.

Jason tried to head off danger by protesting that 'it wasn't a vision, not exactly.'

But Lilith had shushed him, telling him not to worry.

But the thing was-

Jason hadn't been worrying.

He had known immediately that it- whatever was- hadn't been dangerous.

At least, it was something that would never hurt _him_.

He wondered where he got such a certainty.

But it didn't change the fact that he had it.

He felt the nerves on his fingers spark every time he thought about it.

However, he was the only person in such high spirits.

Everyone else was worried.

They worried about the ravens, worried about the Augury, worried about overcast skies, worried about this, worried about that.

Everyone was worried about a war that was supposedly around the corner.

A war, according to Praetor Marcus, that had next to no chance of happening.

But a certain legacy of Apollo had been obstinate.

One thing lead to another and Jason found himself on a Quest.

A Quest in the heart of a Forest, no less.

Personally, Jason thought that they were all daft.

Why would they need to worry about something as pointless as war when _it_ was _there_?

Now, if only he could figure out just _what_ , or maybe _who_ , _'_ it' was...

* * *

Luke Castellan made his way through the hoards of monsters crowding his way to the golden Sarcophagus acting as the centerpiece of the room.

He did not spare a glance at the carnage wrought around him.

His eyes were fixated on the top of Sarcophagus which held the entity of his master.

Each time he was in the Titan's presence, he would feel a mixture of awe and fear.

The strength of his profile could be seen even in his insubstantial image.

Truly, he looked like a powerful king sitting on a golden throne.

It was such an honor for one such as himself to tend to the rightful lord of the world.

And to be given an opportunity to avenge the injustices done unto him because of his godly parent-

It was a privilege many would die for.

And one many more were willing to kill for.

Which was why he kept a watchful eye on those around him.

None of them were a threat, not yet but...

 _Who would turn, who's the traitor, who would turn, oh isn't this a fun game, who will turn, I wonder who it'll be_...

It went through his head like a nursery rhyme gone insane.

Maybe it was mania.

Maybe it was paranoia.

Maybe it was instinct.

If he had learnt _anything_ after his experience with Hermes, he had learnt to expect betrayal from everyone.

He frowned ever so slightly at the memory of his father, the so-called messenger of the gods.

The scar across his face tingled with old pain.

But Luke ignored it.

It would soon be avenged.

He walked unflinchingly past two monsters with horrendous features that stood guard at either side of the rectangular casket.

They wore blinders, not dissimilar to the ones that horses wore.

The reason why... well.

It has been theorized that if a person knew every happening of every place at any one in instant of time, then they would be able to discern the past and foretell the future.

Luke had no idea if that was actually true or not.

But he _did_ know that if he ever wanted to find out, he wouldn't dare use the Sarcophagus in front of him.

If you gazed into it for too long, you would lose your mind, your identity and finally, your soul, leaving behind only the shell of a body.

Even if said person was immortal.

It had taken the lives (and more) of several of the Titan Army's best warriors before Lord Kronos had finally deigned to give information about it.

The Sarcophagus didn't just act as a ball and chain to Lord Kronos's essence- it also used his power to booby trap itself.

If anyone attempted to free the Titan without the three keys of Hephaestus and the Will of Olympus, that person will meet the same fate as the previously mentioned unlucky souls.

But naturally there were loopholes...

A will that matched a force of nature to keep oneself sane would be needed.

That, and… well- something else that was nigh impossible to obtain.

Suffice to say that not even one of the puny Olympians would stand a chance.

Luke wondered if he could somehow trick his father into taking one long look.

Heh.

It would be the sweetest irony.

The Tricked Trickster.

He came to a halt, kneeling a few feet away from the casket.

He bowed his head in reverence.

After the most recent disappointment, he wasn't expecting a warm welcome.

Nor did he get one.

The air around him was chill and stifling.

"At your service, my Lord," he spoke, cutting through the terse silence.

"You look well," said the Titan.

Luke winced.

He was bruised in several places, his clothes worn and his pallor sickly after his fall from the cliff.

Needless to say, he was far from the picture of health.

His Lord's words could mean only one thing-

Lord Kronos was in a bad mood.

"What news of the Quest?" asked Lord Kronos abruptly, even though he had already received the particulars of their failure.

Luke grimaced slightly.

"The Goddess escaped with the Questing m'lord."

"The Questing..."

The way the Titan said it was laden with meaning.

It hung in the pause that followed.

"And what of the Ophiotaurus?"

"Unsuccessful, m'lord. We had no chance of winning against the Daughter of Athena in swaying the Daughter of Zeus's will. It is currently under the protection of Olympus"

The glow around the Tomb intensified.

"I grow weary of hearing of the child of Athena. It might be best to end her influence for good."

Luke felt a pang of alarm.

"But her presence made little difference in the struggle for Artemis, sire," he hastened to add.

"The struggle...? The struggle which we... lost?

Luke gulped.

"Yes, m'lord."

"Tell me, do we have any captives?"

"The Lieutenant of the Huntresses, Zoe Nightshade, met her end at the hands of-"

"Atlas, yes," said Kronos dryly, "I believe that I asked for _captives,_ not casualties."

"...None, sire."

The insubstantial visage of Kronos tapped a rhythm irritably with his finger.

"What are the details of their... escape?"

"Unclear m'lord. After I came to, I was informed that most of the warriors who were witnesses were killed by an unknown force. Those who remain are unable to offer clear details."

"An unknown force?"

Luke took in a shuddering breath.

"There are some unsettling rumors flying about the Army. It is about an individual whom we have code named 'the Phantom.'

Some say that it was an apparition and that their spears and arrows passed through him cleanly. Others claim that it was a master swordsman, slicing through its enemies like a hot knife through butter. But the most virulent- that he is a shade, summoned to this earth because of the unholy deeds that the- that have taken place."

Luke met with the inhumane gaze squarely.

"It is not good for morale."

The Time lord was deathly silent.

Luke was sweating bullets.

Lord Kronos was not the giant Damien- he wasn't known for sentiment.

His silence was never a good thing.

"The child of wisdom was an... unfortunate complication in this matter," the Titan finally murmured, "Yet something seems amiss."

"…Milord?"

Kronos wondered what would have caused the uneasy feeling on the edge of his consciousness.

It felt like a loose tooth.

He just could not leave it be.

But for now...

"What is the state of the preparations for the next move?"

Luke blinked once.

Was Kronos going to ignore his report on the Phantom?

"They are complete m'lord. The only thing left is to move our troops."

"Well done."

Luke hid his flash of surprise.

A compliment...?

What was going on?

There was a pause.

"This will give you enough time to pursue a small matter for me."

Another contemplative silence flooded the room.

Luke wasn't naive enough to believe that he got off scot-free.

He was sure he would have his punishment waiting for him when he least expected it.

But, for now, he was safe...-ish.

* * *

"There has been a ripple in the flow of time," Lord Kronos mused aloud, choosing his words carefully,

"I cannot divulge much, but it usually signifies something tearing rip in the Space-Time continuum. Its effects can't be easily detected by one less experienced than I."

Lord Kronos muttered the next to himself.

Luke strained his ears, but could catch only one phrase.

"…happens more often... one would think…"

The Titan continued, clearlty this time,

"…Rarely, very rarely mind you- this indicates the presence of a _Fate-knife_."

"A Fate-knife…?" Luke could not keep the questioning note out of his voice.

Luckily, the Titan was too preoccupied with his thoughts to take offence at his tone.

He graced his query with a brief description.

Luke was stunned.

Such an object... it would be immensely powerful.

"By the disturbance I felt, I would _strongly_ suspect that there is one in this timeline. It could be anywhere. It could be with anyone. It may be anything from a tree to a teacup."

A pregnant pause.

"We have not the proper means to search for it. Not with the war of the Prophecy around the corner. Keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. It would be an _invaluable_ asset, so much so that it could change the tide of the war itself."

Lord Kronos leveled a deliberate look on him.

"Keep an eye out, Luke Callestan. For if you find it, I might find it in me to pardon your failure."

* * *

 _So it begins._

Nico paced back and forth in a rhythm matching that of the water that ebbed and flowed along the bank of the Klamath River.

 _A few days ago, Camp had erupted into chaos._

 _Nico had taken it as an unspoken invitation to leave._

Rhythms were patterns and patterns were good.

They gave a semblance of normalcy.

The gods knew that he needed every bit of 'normal' he could get.

His whole body felt it was buzzing with electricity.

The incident was still fresh in his mind.

 _It happened mere seconds after the di Angelo siblings fell into each other's arms in a rush of relief-_

 _The dark insignia of Hades appeared over Nico's head._

It was as if someone flipped a switch.

The camp turned on him with torches and pitchforks.

Figuratively, of course.

It had been mob mentality at its finest.

Please, note the sarcasm.

But Nico expected this.

Had been counting on it in fact.

His plan _required_ this.

Hell, he would've even instigated it, if it didn't happen on its own.

What he hadn't anticipated was his sister standing up for him.

Standing up against Camp for _him_.

Nico felt the jitters just remembering it.

 _Bianca had almost renounced her status a Huntress when her Sisters' attempts to get her to stop went awry._

 _In the end, Thalia had dragged her away, kicking and screaming._

Nico had shadow traveled away while the campers' attention was on the Huntresses' departure.

After that, well.

He has had his own set of adventures.

Running from the mortal police had been the least of it.

And now, here he was…

You might wonder where 'here' was.

'Here' was just North to the Six Rivers Forest, CA.

You would _think_ that forests would be devoid of human life.

But Nico could feel the life forces of human beings.

Mortals who had come to hike, perhaps?

He did remember hearing something about the 'Backpack Devil's Punch-bowl'...

But the point was- there was no one in the vicinity to disturb his thoughts.

His hands were trembling and his pulse was racing.

He was in no condition to proceed further.

He could afford a few minutes to cool his jets.

He closed his eyes and tried to analyze the situation.

He had done both too much and too little.

He had saved Bianca's life.

And in doing so, he had robbed Thalia of her place as Lieutenant of the Huntresses.

He wasn't sure how this would impact the time-line.

But bringing someone back from the dead was no a trifling matter.

 _Keeping_ them alive…

Well, it had little successful precedence for a reason.

For it to be successful... he had to do something that had never been done before.

Everything that he had done until now amounted next to nothing.

Hoping that this was enough would be like throwing pebbles while hoping for a landslide.

Nico, for one, didn't trust the fate of the World on _luck_.

It was the future, dammit!

He needed to do something big, something drastic, something that would blow the entire thing away.

There _were_ a few things that fit the criteria.

But he couldn't predict what would happen after.

Not with these many variables.

And his attempt at gathering information…

It was unsatisfactory to say the least.

To top things off, he'd run into a legion of monsters while investigating the remains of Mount Othrys.

If he was being honest with himself, things had looked pretty grim.

He had been backed into a corner with no room for escape without exposure.

* * *

Nico snarled, trying to think his way out of the situation.

Behind him laid a hundred foot drop into a stormy ocean.

In front of him laid the Titan's army.

If it came down to a choice between the two evils, Nico was choosing the cliff.

There were overhanging rocks, worse come worst, he could shadow travel his way out of there.

However, if anyone of the monsters had the least bit of sense, they would search for his body.

And an absent body will raise _questions_.

Not that the monsters in front of him seemed to have the brain cells capable of that.

He took a quick scope.

He couldn't take the chance.

No, he didn't really think that the monsters would figure it out.

Maybe- just _maybe_ \- the whole lot of them could combine their meager intelligence to produce two brain cells, just enough to rub together to make that simple a deduction.

But he wouldn't count on it.

Still.

The point wasn't if his enemies' intelligence (or lack thereof) would be able to afford it.

 _He_ could not afford it.

Lady Luck was sweet on him, but as one who tampered with the Fates' plan, he could not rely on her to shield their wrath.

"Wu-ell, Wu-ell, Wu-ell. Bwoys, wha' dwee 'ave 'ere? Hay keed, awent wyuu 'ith yer godlin' fiends? Naw, naw, bwoy. Dwon't wu nao whyat 'apens two wonvy witt'e keets? Haw- haw- haw."

The monster before him cackled.

 **(A/N** : It's actually

~Well, well, well. Boys, what do we have here? Hey kid, aren't you with your godling friends? Now, now boy. Don't you know what happens to lonely little kids? *laughs*~

Did you get that? No? Well neither did Nico. **)**

Nico blinked.

From what he gathered from the monster's slobbering, the only reason why he was alive was because he'd been mistaken for one of the demigods in the Titan army.

Well, that was a thought.

Maybe if he pretended that he was a new recruit?

"Um, yes, I'm new," said Nico hesitantly.

He hunched his shoulders- both to make himself seem like an awkward novice and as a precaution if anyone got aggressive.

"Do you know where I could-"

The monster blathered on,

"Wyat? Twoo scwad tyo speake wup? Har-har-har. Wyu sertinly fech blud. Har-har.'M su'e tha' nu-won w'll meiss ya'f yer gon. Har-har-har. Har-har. Har… Waiyat. Mu-won wi'l meiss yu..."

 **(A/N:** This one is actually

~What? Too scared to speak up? *laughter* You certainly (are) fresh blood. *laughter* I'm sure that no one will miss you if you are gone. *laughter* *laugh* *pause* Wait. No one will miss you...~ **)**

Nico looked at it with hope.

Maybe it managed to understand?

If so, he would take back everything mean that he said about-

It lunged towards Nico with a growl.

So much for that idea.

He managed to dodge it, getting closer to the edge.

"C'mon wittle godlin'! Le's _pwaayy_!"

 **(A/N:** This one is fairly simple-

~Come on little godling! Let's play~ **)**

Guess there was no two ways about it.

Nico tensed his legs, getting ready to jump.

But then.

A miracle took place.

His hand had slipped into the comfort of shadows, purely by force of habit.

And in its coolness, he felt something _shift_.

 _'What? What was that?'_

His had fingers brushed against something… wait, was that metal?

He involuntarily clenched his hand, and it closed around the worn out handle he had longed to feel.

Breathlessly, not daring to look in case he was hallucinating, he swung his hand in an all-too-familiar arc.

The monster before him fell back.

In two pieces.

There was silence for a whole minute.

And then, chaos erupted.

The monsters screeched, wailed and cried hysterically- all while jumping around who Nico belatedly realized was their leader.

This gave Nico a moment to himself, which he used to revel in the sight, the sound, the smell of his sword.

He had a look of reverence on his face as he grazed his finger over the sharper edge of glowing black Stygian Iron.

He cut himself slightly due to his inattention.

It burnt like the fires of Hades.

He felt giddiness well up as he watched as the cut healed itself within seconds.

He then threw his head back and laughed.

Maniacally.

* * *

He hadn't meant to go overboard, but he'd done so anyway.

He had forgotten himself in his excitement.

Before he knew it, he was standing in a pile of monster dust with blood pouring down his arm.

(Oh, you needn't worry. None of it was his own.)

But it was worth it.

The familiar weight by his hip gave him a comfort that knew no bounds.

Turns out that his sword _was_ his in this timeline.

It hadn't seen the need to manifest until he was in true danger.

A.k.a when he shadow traveled right in the middle of a monstrous monster army.

Typical.

Nevertheless, he'd found the thing he had so desperately needed.

And the fight seemed to dampen his recklessness.

He made a list of things he needed to do next.

A plan would always be in handy.

But seeing that no ideas came to mind, well-

He would work on it.

But one thing was sure- he wasn't planning on doing the things he did last time.

But for that, he would need someone to take his place.

 _Hmm…_

It didn't need to be a child of Hades.

Any child of the Big Three should provide enough symmetry to allow him to get away with his tampering.

His eyes darkened as he considered the possibilities.

He didn't think Bianca could face the mind-games of the Labyrinth, let alone those of Tartarus.

And familial affection aside, she wouldn't stand a chance against Minos.

She simply didn't have the Divine Right to wrest away the title of the Ghost King from a spirit, let alone one as ancient as the one in question.

And after further weakening her claim by pledging her allegiance to Artemis-

Yeah, it would be kinder to throw her to the sharks.

And that took out Thalia too.

He refused to have Hazel take his place.

He'd spent much of his time trying to keep her away from the war.

He wasn't going to bring her out of Asphodel any earlier than necessary.

And in any case, her role as one of the Seven was of more importance.

Who knew what would happen if he messed with that.

Speaking of the Seven, Percy was out.

And Nico wasn't going to give him a chance to mess things up a second time.

As for Jason… no.

Apart from 'the Seven' complication, Greek matters should be settled by Greeks.

...Maybe it would be best to just keep a low profile.

He had around five years to save the world- he had enough time to think.

So he had to calm down and-

"N- Nico?"

The sound cut through him like a knife.

Nico turned around so fast that he got a whiplash.

As the owner of the voice came into view, they both took a double take.

Nico supposed that the other's reaction was understandable.

After all, a thirteen year old drenched in blood with a glowing black sword wasn't a common sight.

And in his own defense, who wouldn't be surprised when the impossible takes place in front of one's own eyes?

 _'What was that saying again? Ah yes. Speak of the devil…'_ thought Nico, wryly.

The other's comrade put a hand on his shoulder to pull him away, but was shrugged off.

His gaze was fixed upon the bloodied half-blood, and _would not look away_.

"Nico?" the person tried again, hoping for a reaction.

Nico was tired, sore and one second away from collapse.

But he could manage just this much.

He smiled widely, gentle despite his efforts towards the contrary.

"Hullo, Jason. Fancy meeting you here."

And then he fell back, into his own shadow.

* * *

 **A/N** : Well, that's it for now, folks!

Seeing that no one is really interested in the Harbinger, I'll just let it be.

Well then.

I won't say you'll regret this, but at least you have been warned.

(Ah, it's nothing serious, just a small thing that I had been planning on)

Oh, and hopefully, we'll see the next arc in a few months.

But all that depends on the Trolls!

Catch you later!


End file.
